


Gathering Ghosts

by Aetherschreiber



Series: Aetherschreiber's Star Wars Head-Cannon [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Crew as Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, How the Ghost Crew Met Sabine, Hurt/Comfort, Talking To Dead People, Talking To The Force, Team as Family, Wait Who Is Doing The Talking Here?, Whatever Happened to Kanan's Awesome Coat?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:11:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 37,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aetherschreiber/pseuds/Aetherschreiber
Summary: Kanan Jarrus just wanted to keep his head down and live his life. And he was doing pretty well, too. He had a home, the love of his life, and a best friend. Too bad the Force couldn't just let him be. The crew of the Ghost is not yet complete and the Force intends to do something about it, no matter the consequences.





	1. Prologue

"Master, how did you first know?"

Depa Billaba looked away from the controls of the transport she had been monitoring as the ship flew through the swirling blue of hyperspace. Next to her, in the copilot's seat and practically disappearing into a Jedi cloak that seemed almost too big for him, was her recently acquired Padawan. He was looking at her, eyes wide with bright curiosity and a thoughtful, searching glint. She gave him a smile and a gentle laugh when no further detail was forthcoming in the question.

"I'm afraid that you're going to have to be more specific, Caleb," she said.

"You know," Caleb replied, "when you accepted me as your Padawan. You said you thought that I was young, but that I was needed anyway. How did you know that?"

"Ah, you're wondering why I finally said yes," she said, "even though I hadn't been inclined to take on an apprentice."

"Well, sort of, I guess," Caleb said, looking away and running a hand through his hair. "Why'd you change your mind?"

"Well, you seemed to know before I did," Depa replied, "how did _you_ know?"

"I dunno," said Caleb, "it was just a sort of a feeling, I suppose. I was passing your bacta tank in the Infirmary and you just sort of got my attention. It was like a... a pull or something."

"What sort of a pull?"

Caleb looked frustrated and waved a hand in the air, sullenly sinking even further into his seat. "Just a pull," he said, "you know? Like something important. I... I don't know how to put it."

Depa gave a small hum of understanding. There was a long pause as she considered what to say next. "For me, it was that I kept running into you at the Temple. In crisis or not, you simply kept crossing my path. One doesn't tend to ignore such coincidences, because where the Force is involved it usually isn't one."

Impossibly, Caleb sank even lower in his seat, giving a groan and pulling the hood of his cloak up over his head. He looked perfectly mortified and Depa couldn't help but give a small laugh.

"Caleb? I take it that wasn't the answer you wanted to hear. What is it?"

"Um... I don't think it was the Force," the Padawan mumbled, pulling his hood down further.

"Why not?" Depa asked.

"I was sort of... trying to get your attention," Caleb admitted, softly.

Depa blinked and stared at Caleb for a long moment, then broke out into an all-out, full-on laugh.

"It's not funny!" Caleb protested. "It's really embarrassing. And I probably messed up everything."

"Padawan, you haven't messed up anything," Depa said, the she reached over and pulled Caleb's hood back, revealing his face again, "now come out of there so we can speak properly." Caleb didn't resist the action, but refused to look up after the hood was down. His cheeks turned a deep red color and he bit his lower lip. She reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I hate to tell you this, Caleb, but your efforts to get my attention were hardly subtle."

"That sure doesn't make it any better," the boy muttered, once again running a hand through his hair.

"Maybe not," she admitted, "but I was very flattered."

"But don't you see?" Caleb protested. "I'm only your Padawan because I bothered you a whole bunch. It wasn't the will of the Force at all. It was me, being... annoying..." His eyes suddenly went wide with some realization that seemed to disturb him greatly. "What if I'm not supposed to be your Padawan? What if someone else is? What if I'm supposed to be apprenticed to someone else? What if I'm not meant to be a Jedi Knight? What if-"

"Whoa! Whoa! Slow down!" Depa said, putting her other hand on Caleb's other shoulder. "Focus on what is, not what could be. Live in this moment and be calm."

Caleb seemed to be studying his lap, once again biting his lip in uncertainty. When no response seemed to be forthcoming from him, Depa sighed. Reaching back to the controls, she checked that the auto-pilot was engaged and then stood up from her seat. There was a clear space toward the back of the cabin. She settled on the floor, legs crossed, Caleb watching her intently and with no small amount of trepidation.

"Come and sit with me," she said, indicating the space in front of her.

Caleb looked as though he was resigned to being blasted into another incarnation. Still, he slowly stood and came over to sit on the floor in front of Depa, back ramrod straight.

"Now give me your hand and close your eyes," Depa said and Caleb did as he was told. "Now, consider for a moment before answering. How do you feel?"

"Nervous," Caleb finally admitted. But she knew, that was only what was on the surface.

"All right, now breathe and collect that tension in your belly. And then, gently, allow it to flow out of you. Good. Now. How do you feel?"

"Embarrassed," Caleb answered.

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to be a Padawan so badly that I went against the will of the Force."

"And why do you believe that?"

"I didn't let everything happen the way it was supposed to."

"So, because you took action, you believe this was not meant to happen. Why did you take action?"

"I... I felt it was right."

"And why did you feel this?"

"I... Well, I... I don't know..."

"So the action you took was a leap of faith," Depa said, gently, "faith that what you were feeling was correct. How can that not be the Force at work? Look at me, Caleb."

Slowly, almost unwilling to leave behind the safety of meditation, Caleb's eyes came open and he looked up. Depa placed a hand on the side of his face.

"You _are_ my Padawan," she said, "and you _are meant_ to be my Padawan. The Force wills it. It simply chose you as its instrument. You asked how I knew? I knew because you insisted. And I saw the faith you had in it. Don't begin doubting it now."

Caleb took a deep breath in through his nose and released it from his mouth, giving a nod. "Yes, Master."

Depa sat back again and the two of them regarded one another for a long moment. The Force felt warm and comfortable around them, like a blanket.

"There will be many people who come and go in your life," Depa went on, "some will be there only for a moment. Others will be with you for a very long time. They are all equally valuable. It's important that you remember that pull that you felt. That is the Force speaking to you. Listen for it."

"Yes, Master."

"Good," Depa said, rising to her feet with the grace of a bird taking to wing. Caleb followed suit. "Now, come my little strategist. We'll be there, soon. And then we will meet our new brothers-in-arms and show everyone what the Force has brought together."

"Yeah," Caleb agreed with a wide smile.


	2. Chapter One

 

Ord Mantell was a largely barren planet. While it was still dotted with small pockets of civilization in the form of small, tight, dirty cities, a great deal of the planet remained silent and peaceful. Bathed in the reds and oranges of sunset, the rocky, plateaued area outside of Vreen City was no exception to this.

At least, until a group of three speeders darted over the landscape at top speed, dodging blaster fire as they went. A group of no less than ten speeders came soon after them, shouting curses and war-cries into the air and firing at their prey.

At the very head of the whole frenetic procession, a tall, dark-haired Human leaned into a turn, his long tan coat flapping behind him in the wind. His two companions, a purple-skinned Lasat and a muscular, four-armed Besalisk, followed suit, just barely clearing the edge of a stone outcropping before blaster fire could reach them. The pursuing speeders took the turn wide, but followed in a cloud of kicked-up dust.

The Besalisk, steering his speeder with two arms and holding a box tucked into the arm pit of a third, pointed a blaster backward and fired off a few rounds with his fourth.

"Karabast, Sinis!" the Lasat shouted at him. "Haven't you pissed them off enough? We're trying to get them to leave us alone!"

"Get off my back, Orrelios!" the Besalisk shouted back over the din of the speeders. "This wouldn't have happened if you had just gone along with my plan!"

"Kanan gave you an order!"

"Ride now, bitch at each other later!" the aforementioned Kanan, the Human, shouted back at the both of them, reaching for a switch on his wrist com. "Specter One to _Ghost_ ," he called, "we have a situation down here."

"How the yotz did you guys find trouble making a completely legal courier pickup?" a female voice replied through the com, sounding none-too-happy but somehow none-too-surprised.

"Sorry, I don't yet have the details on the cluster-kriff of the day," Kanan shouted back into the com, shortly "can you just give us a pickup?" He ducked and cringed as blaster fire zinged past his left ear. "Rapidly!?"

"All right, already," the voice on the other end sighed back, "Specter Three just got your coordinates. Make for point zero-six-zero and I'll save you boys' butts. Again."

Kanan led his two companions as he took a wide bank to the left around another rock formation. They shot out into a wide, open, sandy field and poured on all speed, pushing their vehicles to the topmost range of their RPMs.

On the horizon, approaching rapidly, the welcome sight of the jewel-shaped VCX-100 light freighter known as the _Ghost_ swooped low and flew straight their direction. It came to an abrupt halt less than a quarter-mile from them, hovering just above the sandy ground, its thrusters kicking up a cloud of dust. The forward guns on the ship's nose twitched, taking aim at the trio's pursuers. Kanan and Zeb broke left to make for the ship's aft while Sinis broke right. As soon as they were past the nose of the ship, the Ghost fired off several earth-shaking blasts, causing the speeder gang to scatter as sand and stone flew into the air immediately in front of them.

Kanan, Zeb, and Sinis looped around back toward the open cargo hatch at the _Ghost_ 's bow. Screeching to a halt, sideways, they all sailed into the cargo hatch.

"We're in!" Kanan shouted into his wrist com.

Immediately, the _Ghost_ lurched under them, the cargo hatch ascending closed as the ship lifted into the air and turned back the way it came. Within minutes, it was sailing back through the atmosphere and into orbit and leaving the speeder gang far behind.

There was a long moment of silence in the hold while the trio caught their breath from the chase.

"What the _kriffing poodoo_ was that all about!?" Kanan shouted, breaking it. "I leave you two for three minutes to watch the area while I make contact with our client, and you guys piss off the local speeder gang?"

"Hey, don't look at me," Zeb said, defensively, sending a glare in the Besalisk's direction, "why don't you ask Mister Desert-His-Post himself, Sinis Termain!"

"I told you to back off, Orrelios!" Sinis shouted at Zeb, two arms on his hips and waving a corner of the box he had been toting in the Lasat's face. "This is personal business. I don't need to answer to you, of all people!"

"Yeah, well your personal business nearly got us all fried," Zeb shot back.

"I swear to-" Kanan started, then cut himself off, "if someone doesn't tell me what happened right now, I may not be responsible for my actions!"

Both Zeb and Sinis began talking over each other, heatedly, trying to gain Kanan's attention. He silenced them with a glare and a held up hand.

"One at a time," he growled, "Zeb? You first."

Sinis gave a sour look, but shut his mouth while Zeb began to speak.

"This idiot randomly up and said he was going to take care of some business in the middle of our damn job," Zeb said, hotly, "a few minutes later, he comes back and tries to get me to help him rough up that speeder gang."

"No, I said to _distract_ them for a moment while I slipped in the back of their nerf-hole," Sinis replied, in kind.

"And just _why_ did you need to get into the back of their nerf-hole?" Kanan asked, exasperated.

"Personal business, like I said!" Sinis shot back. Zeb gave an incredulous huff.

"We were on a job," Kanan ground out, "you don't do personal business while we're on a job. What's in the box that made those speed-rats so pissed off?"

"None of ya' damn business!" Sinis shouted back, covering the box protectively with two hands.

"It became our business when we got shot at!" Zeb roared.

"What's in the box, Termain?" Kanan repeated.

"I said-"

"I don't care what you said!" Kanan shouted, making a feint and then grabbing the box from Sinis' hands. He tore it open and looked inside. "Credit chips? You stole credit chips from them!?"

"I repossessed 'em!" Sinis shouted back, grabbing the box away from Kanan, "those speed-rats owed me money and they weren't payin'."

"So you _stole_ from them?!" Kanan shouted, his voice going up an octave. "This is the sixth time, Termain! The _sixth time_ that you've screwed up a job because of your damned 'personal business!' One more time and I'll-"

"You'll what, Jarrus?" Sinis growled back, leaning down over the Human and practically shooting smoke from his nose. "It ain't up to you! Last I checked, you weren't the captain of the _Ghost_."

"No, I am," came a stern voice from the observation deck above, the same one that had been responding to Kanan through his wrist com. A green Twi'lek in an orange flight suit, hands on her hips, stood looking down at all three of them. "And _I_ say that while you're in the field on a job, Kanan is in charge."

"Hera, you weren't even-" Sinis began.

"I didn't need to be!" she exclaimed. She kicked a duffel over the edge of the observation deck. It landed on the deck of the cargo hold with a loud thump. "You're done. You get off when we get to Reskin Station in ten minutes and don't come back." With that, she turned on her heel and went forward, disappearing from the observation deck.

"Whatever!" Sinis shouted after her. "I don't need your bleeding-heart poodoo getting in my way, anyway, you stupid-"

Kanan cut him off, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him menacingly close. "Finish that sentence, and you will be the galaxy's most _disarmed_ Besalisk."

"Ooh, brave white knight Jarrus, protecting his piece of Twi'lek-"

And then Kanan's blaster was shoved up under the floppy sack under the Besalisk's chin, causing the larger being to choke slightly.

"One. More. Word," Kanan growled.

Finally, Sinis backed down, putting all four of his hands up in surrender. Kanan glared at him a little longer, before pushing him away and letting go of his shirt. The Human then stalked toward the ladder to the main deck.

"Hey, could be worse," Zeb ground out to the Besalisk, beginning to follow Kanan up the ladder, "at least she's _landing_ before she's kicking you off the ship."

Kanan continued to mutter curses as he stalked forward of the ship, through the common room, past the crew cabins, tossing his long coat through the door to his own cabin, and continued into the cockpit. Once there, he jabbed the control to shut the door behind him and flopped into the copilot's seat, angrily.

From her seat at the stick, Hera simply continued to calmly navigate the _Ghost_ through the atmosphere to the city they were to drop off their client's package. When nothing was forthcoming from Kanan, she cleared her throat a little.

"Rough day at the office, dear?" she deadpanned.

"Six jobs!" Kanan exclaimed, throwing up a hand. "Six jobs on four planets in two weeks! How does a guy even _know_ that many people, let alone have the time to piss them all off?"

"Please tell me you at least got the disk before all chaos broke loose," Hera said.

With a sigh, Kanan held up a data disk. "At least the job isn't _completely_ kriffed," he said, "we can still make our delivery. You sure had his bag packed quick, though."

"Well, when you missed your check-in after the hand-off, I took a wild guess as to the reason," Hera replied with a sigh, "this was my fault. I should have listened to the buzz about him. His skill-set was just too tempting. I really thought he could be an asset to the Rebellion. Now we're back at square one on recruitment."

"You give any more thought to keeping Zeb on, permanently?" Kanan asked. "He's been working for us for two months to pay his way and hasn't caused a single job to go south. Yotz! He's even saved a couple!"

"Well, I definitely want to cut him in on a percentage of this job," Hera said, "I think he's more than earned it after this fiasco. And I'm leaning toward asking him to stay."

"But?"

"I'm just not sure where he stands," she said, "how long would we be able to count on him if we brought him in on everything? He's even more transitory than you used to be."

"Maybe," Kanan admitted, "but he's been nothing but trustworthy so far and he has just as much reason to hate the Empire as we do. And I've never seen anyone fight the way he does with that Bo-Rifle."

"And he likes going to the bar with you."

"That's just a bonus," Kanan said with a shrug, then his voice dropped a little, as if he was embarrassed, "besides he... reins me in before I get stupid."

"It's probably the growl," Hera deadpanned, "well, maybe we should get all of our recruits the way you found Zeb. You get lit at some seedy bar and start a fight and then see who comes to your rescue."

Kanan sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. "Zeb didn't rescue me."

"Love, there were twenty pissed-off Stormtroopers and you were three sheets to the wind. He rescued you."

"I rescued him back!" Kanan exclaimed.

"Yeah, by bringing him to _my_ ship to lay low and get passage off of Corellia," Hera shot back, "and he still hasn't said anything about where he's headed."

"I'm not sure he knows," Kanan said with a sigh, "the look in his eyes whenever we talk to him about it... Hera, it's so familiar. I know exactly what it's like to need to move on without having a plan. Besides, I just have this feeling about him."

"A feeling?" Hera asked. "Or a _feeling_ -feeling?"

"And here we go again," Kanan said resignedly, letting his head flop back over the seat's headrest.

"Kanan, I mean it," Hera pushed onward, "the jobs Fulcrum sends us on bring hope to so many people. But it's nothing compared to the hope you could bring by just admitting who you are, to yourself _and_ the world."

"Hera you know that the only way I've been able to stay alive is by telling all of that strongly and firmly to _go away_."

"And we both know that I'm still alive today because, once, you chose _not_ to."

Kanan didn't have an answer for that. He never did. It was basically how that conversation always ended; Hera giving him her big, sad eyes, Kanan refusing to meet the look and scrubbing his hands over his face in an effort to hold in the emotion.

"I can't," Kanan finally said around a deep and mournful sigh, "I just _can't_ , Hera. It's... it's too much. Please, just ask me to do anything for this Rebellion you're starting but that."

"All right," Hera replied, gently, "we'll table it again, for now. But I can't stop asking, Kanan. For the sake of everyone, including you."

Kanan made no reply. He simply sat in the copilot's seat, staring up at the ceiling with a far-away and pain-filled look in his eyes.

"We land in two," she said, "look, you've had a long day and I know you haven't been sleeping well lately. I wanna get a read on Zeb anyway, so I'll go with him to make the delivery. You get some rest."

"Yeah," Kanan said around a heavy sigh, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "yeah, all right." Picking himself up off the chair as though he weighed a million tons, he shuffled toward the door, but his hand hesitated over the control to open it. "Hera," he said softly, "you know that I appreciate deeply what you do for me every day by not telling anyone. I owe you everything."

Before Hera could so much as gather breath for a response, Kanan had opened the door and retreated through it to his own cabin. She almost turned to go after him, but the coms chose that moment to come to life, a controller asking for the ship's identification and heading. She forced her attention back on the _Ghost_ 's controls and responded with all the professional tone she could muster.

* * *

Reskin Station was a remote town, even by the standards of Ord Mantell. There was only one road that led to it and no space ports to speak of. It was small and remote enough to be of little strategic value. That meant little Imperial presence and a higher rate of organized crime and other such individuals looking to avoid the Empire. Hera ended up setting the Ghost down in an open space about a mile from the outskirts of the town on a dead, dry patch of ground.

The town itself was a depressed little settlement. On their way to make their courier drop, Hera and Zeb passed through a couple of open marketplaces, both of which were quiet and barely populated. On one side of the town, a large factory belched smoke into the air, casting a dim haze on the landscape. All in all, the situation there seemed pretty bleak.

Hera let Zeb play the part of intimidating body guard while they made their delivery. He had even seen fit to growl at a leering tough who clearly had intentions on Hera. They made the drop at the back alley door of what appeared to be a bar. A little window, just large enough for a suspicious pair of eyes opened up and Hera held the disk up to them. The little window slid shut again and a minute or so later, the door opened. A green-skinned Nikto held out a hand expectantly and Hera placed the disk into it. Then the Nikto handed her a few credit chips, gave a nod, and closed the door.

"Huh," Zeb grunted, "chatty fellow."

"We're not here for conversation," said Hera with a shrug, turning away from the door, "as long as his money is good and he pays us not to ask questions, we don't need details."

"Suppose so," Zeb said, "so, what next?"

"Well, we're not likely to find any jobs around here," said Hera, "but I'd like to put an ear to the ground anyway. I saw a cantina on our way into town. Good a place as any."

"The only place from the look of things," said Zeb, "but I could use a bite."

They made their way back to the main roads and retraced their steps back toward the edge of town. A couple blocks in, they came to the cantina Hera had mentioned and entered. Par for the course for places like it, the cantina was dark and noisy, even though there weren't that many people in it at the time. A techno music emanated from speakers that were hidden somewhere within the neon-lighted decor and signage around the room.

Hera was content to let Zeb lead the way to a corner table that was relatively out of sight of the rest of the room. He sat with his back to the wall, leaving a seat kiddy-korner for Hera to take. The bar-tender, a brown-skinned Human, wandered over after a few minutes and took their orders.

"Don't get many Twi'leks 'round here," he commented, "what brings ya?"

"Just passing through on a shipping run," Hera replied.

"Cargo runners, 'eh?" the bartender said, "don't get many of them, either. But you're a fairer sight than most, that's for sure. Hope you're gettin' paid enough to make coming to this hole worth your while, Green"

"Not as much as we had hoped," said Hera, "don't suppose you might know of anyone needing our services."

"Not 'round here, I'm afraid," said the bartender, "economy's down the 'fresher. Ain't no one buying or selling. Only thing needing any shipping is the waste from the factory. And, personally, you couldn't pay me enough. I'd steer clear of that gunk, if I were you."

Hera gave a grimace and a noise of disgust. "Thanks for the tip," she said.

"No sweat, Green," said the bartender, "just do the place a favor and check in every now and then, 'eh? Not too much call for shipping, but what there is tends to be _very appreciated_ , if you catch me."

Hera gave a nod. "Understandable," she said, "shipment coming in here must be a good as Life Day."

The bartender gave a deep laugh. "Too right, Green," he said, "be back with your food in a few ticks."

Zeb chuckled a little as the bartender walked away. "Good thing Kanan's not here," he said, "guy might have gotten a broken nose, with the way his eyes were twinkling. I don't think he even knew I was here."

"Oh, trust me, he noticed you," Hera replied, "why do you think he wasn't _blatantly_ flirting?"

"Well, he ain't quite so dumb, then, I suppose," Zeb said with a grin.

"Why Garazeb Orrelios, are you offering to defend my honor?"

"Yotz, no! You can take care of yourself, just fine! I should know. My wrist still pops every now and then."

"Good choice," said Hera with a smirk to which Zeb gave another chuckle.

The bartender returned with their food a moment later and then went back to his place behind the bar to serve another new patron who had just come in. Hera and Zeb sat eating in relative silence for a few minutes. About half way through their meal, Zeb paused, clearing his throat.

"Uh, say, I wanted to ask," he said, sounding a little uncomfortable, "you and Kanan haven't ever made mention of cutting me loose at all. Just wanted to make sure I wasn't wearing out my welcome, you know?"

"Actually, you've really been a big help," Hera replied, "to be honest, I'm not sure what we'll do when you finally decide to move on."

"Well, I appreciate it," Zeb said, absently scratching behind one ear and his eyes sliding to one side, "I don't exactly make friends, easy."

"Well, you've made two," Hera replied, "you're welcome to stay as long as you need. And I hope you'll keep in touch after we part ways. Although, Kanan and I were just talking and-"

"Uh, whatever it is," Zeb interrupted, his gaze on the entry to the cantina, "think it might have to wait." He nodded that direction with his chin.

Hera slid her eyes that direction, careful not to make it obvious that she was looking. Just sidling up to the bar were four Stormtroopers, removing their helmets and settling in.

"Bucket-heads," Hera said with disdain.

"Yeah," Zeb said, making a show of returning to his own food and lowering his voice a bit, "and correct me if I'm wrong, but I've noticed that some of the places where you and Kanan get your jobs-"

"Say no more," Hera cut in, "you're right, we should head out. You'll draw too much attention from them. Stay here while I pay the tab and we'll go."

Zeb gave a nod, keeping one eye on Hera and the other on the Stormtroopers.

Hera walked across the room to the bar, hesitating at first to get too close to the Stormtroopers, but deciding at the last moment that acting unconcerned about them was the better plan. She leaned against the bar and flagged down the bartender. He gave her a nod as he finished bringing drinks for the Stormtroopers.

"And then, all of a sudden, boom!" one of the Troopers said to his companions. "The speeder blows, sky-high. Must have over-heated or something, I dunno. But it's a big fireball."

"And the smuggler?" asked one of the other ones.

"Crispy critter, by the time we were able to get to him," said the first.

"No big loss, though," said a third, "just some bleeding heart trying to get food around Imperial taxes, again. Damn transients. Think they don't gotta follow the law 'cause they call 'emselves refugees."

Hera's teeth were grinding by the time the bartender got back to her. Somehow, she managed to keep her cool and her face remained pleasantly unconcerned.

"Leavin' already, Green?" the bartender asked as she handed him a credit chip.

"Afraid so," she responded, "just got a call from my ship. Work's calling."

"Ah, well," the bartender said as he processed the payment for their meal, "if you find yourself back this way, pop in and say hi. Name's Sulmest, by the way. Just like it says on the sign. But friends call me Greeg."

"Numa Fretalla," Hera replied, latching on to the first of her aliases that came to mind and offering a hand.

The bartender took it and gave it a jovial grasp, then handed her some change back. "Well, good luck to you, Green."

Hera gave a smile and a nod of thanks back and then returned to collect Zeb. As soon as they were certain that the Stormtroopers' attention was elsewhere, they exited without any fanfare and began their walk back to the _Ghost_.

As they approached the edge of the town, they became aware of another group of Stormtroopers. They were walking down the street, latching on to various people and turning their faces to see them, then moving on. They were skipping anyone who wasn't Human, though.

"They're lookin' for someone," said Zeb.

"Yeah," said Hera, "and lucky for us, it looks like they're looking for a Human. C'mon."

Steeling herself, Hera continued down the street in a direction that would take them right past the Stormtroopers. She noticed Zeb's hand get twitchy as they went, but he managed to keep his head about him. They passed the troopers without incident and continued onward to the edge of town and toward the _Ghost_.

* * *

_Blaster bolts streaked through the starry night sky as Kanan looked down upon the wind-battered rock formation below. Hera was on his right. Zeb was on his left. Both were joining in with his own blaster fire and answering shots came from somewhere above. Kanan looked up. Standing in a small alcove of the rock formation, a Mandalorian woman, her armor painted orange and bright neon pink, fired back at them. Her aim was deadly, spouting from twin blasters._

_A bolt flashed across Kanan's vision and he was somewhere else, in broad daylight, a dirty street. There was a young girl there, short-cropped hair in bright, shifting colors. She turned toward him as if he had called out to her. The bright white figure of a Stormtrooper passed between them, interrupting their eye contact._

_And then, Kanan found himself riding a speeder over a wide, softly rolling hillside, waving with long grasses. In the distance, he saw rounded spires of striated stone reaching skyward. Running next to him was a small white, feline-like creature, eyes bright blue as the sky and a wide, toothy grin splitting its face._

_"Kanan!" a voice called from his other side. He looked to it and found there a boy, blue-black hair blowing around his face and glowing in the wash of light from a clean, blue lightsaber. He moved to block something that was raining down upon them and the lightsaber flashed._

_First, it was blue, then red. A Pau'an face drifted into focus, eyes boring into him as blue and red flashed around them. They were fighting._

_"There are some things," a voice echoed as Kanan saw the Pau'an fall from a high ledge, fire blossoming beneath him, "more frightening than death."_

_A cry was torn from Kanan's throat, an ardent denial of something he couldn't stop, a crippling failure._

Kanan awoke in his bunk to the sound of his own voice, bolting up in a cold sweat. His heart was racing and he was gasping as if he had just run a marathon. A faint tingle pricked at his fingers.

He knew this feeling. He knew what it meant had just happened to him. Closing his eyes for a moment, he breathed slowly, gathering himself. "Dammit!" he swore, a fist thumping down on the mattress beneath him in frustration.

It was pulling at him, again; the Force.

Pushing the images that were floating around in his head aside, Kanan pushed himself off of his bunk. He ran a hand through his hair before replacing the tie at the back. Energy racing through his limbs, he prowled back and forth in his cabin several times, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

He wanted to ignore it. He wanted to push the images away. He wanted to pretend that he hadn't seen them, felt them. They were an intrusion on his calm, on his very being. They were a message meant for someone else, a boy who had vanished into madness and death on the planet Kaller.

Kanan let out another curse and grabbed his long coat from the peg by the door. He whipped it on as he went out of his cabin and down the corridor toward the common area and the ladder to the cargo hold beyond. He slid down the ladder and made for the cargo door, punching it open.

Chopper was there, seeing to some diagnostic or another. When Kanan passed, it looked up at him and gave a series of scolding chirrups and grunts, waving a pincer at him like a fist shaking in the air.

"Yes, I'm going out, deal with it," Kanan snapped back at the droid, "just keep the place locked down until Hera and Zeb get back." He stalked out of the ship with Chopper still trilling protests after him.

He wasn't sure how long he walked, the sandy ground crunching under his feet as he marched doggedly toward Reskin Station. There wasn't any rhyme or reason to the direction he had gone. He simply needed to move. When he passed the town limits and found himself among the run-down buildings and depressed populace, it occurred to him that he really wanted a drink.

He may have actually gone to find one if he hadn't rounded a corner to see three Stormtroopers at the other end of the street. It looked like they had taken up position as a check-point of some kind, though not everyone was being stopped. Perhaps it was one of the Empire's "random" checks of the populace.

"Kriff!" he swore, darting back around the corner before the troopers could see him. "What are bucketheads doing here?" And then another thought drifted through his mind; Hera and Zeb. There was no telling what, if anything, the troopers were looking for and if they stumbled into each other it could be bad.

Before anyone could notice that he had evaded the troopers' sight, Kanan continued on down the street in the opposite direction. The streets were a little busier as he went deeper into town, figuring that he would run into Hera and Zeb in that direction, if at all. But it wasn't long before he found another group of Stormtroopers. They were waylaying a young human girl and one of them was looking her over carefully, comparing her against a hand-held holo of a young woman in an Imperial Academy uniform.

There wasn't anywhere he could change his course to that he wouldn't look like he was evading the troopers. So, as calmly as he could, he continued on. Curiosity got the better of him and he looked at the holo as he passed.

"Nah, she's not Sabine Wren," the trooper with the holo said of the young woman they had detained, "move along."

Relief moved through Kanan as he continued past them. They were looking for someone, but it was a Human woman. Hera and Zeb would be in the clear and as long as they kept their heads down, their completely legal delivery wouldn't get them any attention at all.

Kanan continued on and noted with some dismay that the Stormtroopers were heading the same direction. But so far, they hadn't seemed to have taken any notice of him. He rounded another corner, expecting to continue on, unmolested.

And then, his attention was inexplicably pulled in the direction of a side alley. He almost looked away from it again, but did a double-take when he recognized the young woman standing there. Her hair had been cropped short and dyed an ombre, fading from golden yellow to green, and she was dressed in garishly bright and custom stylized yet comfortable clothing. But it was undoubtedly the girl from the Stormtroopers' holo. She had her eyes fixed on a Dug across the street that was lounging on his back arms on the stoop of an entry way. The Dug was definitely her next detestation and she was about ready to cross the street to meet him.

With a jolt, Kanan realized that the Stormtroopers were still behind him and would likely be coming the same direction. But they weren't in the girl's view yet. She was about to walk right into them.

Even as he was doing it, Kanan scolded himself for getting in the middle of whatever the deal was. He should have kept out of it, kept under the troopers' Radar. But he was acting before he really had a chance to think about it.

Kanan stumbled his way toward the Dug in a very uneven line, humming an off-key tune at random. When he got to the Dug's stoop, he caught a toe on the corner of the concrete and clumsily flopped right into the waiting creature. They tumbled around, becoming a tangle of limbs.

"Whoa!" Kanan exclaimed, pouring on a fuzzy, confused tone and slurring his words. "What the yotz, man! I'm jus' walkin' here!"

Kanan didn't speak Dug but the angry tone with which he snapped at him broke the language barriers.

"Hey, you fell into _me_ ," Kanan slurred out, drunkenly pushing back on the Dug's shoulder, missing on purpose, flopping into him again.

In response, the Dug lifted himself up on his front arms and kicked out with his back, landing square in Kanan's chest and pushing him backward off the stoop. He yelled out something that didn't sound very nice as Kanan stumbled backward to land on his butt.

Kanan made a show of staggering to his feet and weaved unsteadily. "You wanna go, pal, lessgo!" he shouted.

The Dug shot forward and collided with Kanan's knees, sending him tumbling to the ground again. The Dug's back arms latched on to the collar of Kanan's coat and he spat out another invective.

"Hold still, I'll take on all threeahya," Kanan drawled out.

"What's going on here?"

The confrontation had drawn the Stormtroopers' attention and their shadow fell across Kanan and the Dug. Both looked up to the Stormtroopers and Kanan added a drunken squint to his gaze.

"Heeeeeeyyyyy, occifer!" Kanan droned waving at the lead trooper with a goofy grin.

For his part, the Dug looked from the trooper to Kanan, and then released Kanan's coat, directing another nasty word Kanan's direction. He then slinked off back to his stoop, continued inside, and closed the door with a slam.

"Thas'right!" Kanan called after him. "I whooped all of ya!" He made a show of trying to stagger to his feet only to flop back on the ground a couple of times in the process.

"Just some drunk, sir," said one of the Stormtroopers to the leader.

"You're lucky we have bigger fish to fry," said the leader to Kanan, "get moving and keep out of trouble!" He pushed on Kanan's shoulder with a rough shove. Kanan allowed himself to be spun about and stumbled backward into a garbage container, up-ending it as he fell again. The troopers all laughed in self-satisfaction and began to pass.

Drunkenly, Kanan fumbled around until he made a convincing show of picking himself off the ground again. He resumed the random humming he had started out with and staggered in the direction of the alley where he had seen the girl.

He dropped the charade as soon as he was out of sight of anyone on the street. He brushed an errant piece of garbage off his coat and cast his eyes about for the girl. She wasn't anywhere to be seen, but there weren't many hiding places. She had probably ducked into one of them as soon as the Stormtroopers made the scene. Deciding he had stuck his nose in enough for one day, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat and continued on.

"What are you doing?" came an accusatory voice from a nice to the side of an air-conditioner unit. "I needed to make contact with that Dug!"

"Betting you didn't need to run right into the Stormtroopers looking for you," Kanan shot back, "did cutting and dying your hair really help? 'Cause you still look like their holo."

"I can handle myself," said the girl, "you just cost me the job that was going to be my ticket off this planet!"

"Whatever you say," Kanan said with a shrug, then lowered his voice, "Sabine Wren. But you might want to be more careful. There's an awful lot of troopers around here."

"I don't need your help," the girl snapped back at him, pushing past.

"Suit yourself," Kanan said with another shrug, moving to continue on his way himself. But something stopped him again. More words were tumbling out of his mouth. "But if it's passage off-world you need, come find the _Ghost_. Ask for Kanan."

He was aghast with himself. He had just given his name and the name of Hera's ship to a complete stranger! Hera was gonna _kill_ him when she found out!

"Forget it!" the girl snapped back, not turning to look back at him and continuing on. Kanan couldn't help be feel relieved.

Suddenly, returning to the _Ghost_ seemed like a very attractive option. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to get in the middle of some street rat's trouble. And he sure as _yotz_ didn't want to go chasing after the girl, like every instinct in him was telling him to. There wasn't any kriffing reason for it, so why the...?

Ah.

As the images from his dream floated back into his mind again, Kanan sagged tiredly against the alley wall. He closed his eyes and breathed, telling that pull to leave him alone. When it continued to buzz in the back of his head, he stubbornly walked off in the opposite direction.

* * *

Hera let the holographic image of the hooded and cloaked figure linger for a moment before ending the communication and turning off the signal scrambler. With a sigh, she sat back in the pilot's seat, behind the closed and locked door to the _Ghost_ 's cockpit, contemplating the intel she had just received.

Things were starting to ramp up. So far, she and Kanan had managed to keep themselves and the _Ghost_ off of any of the major wanted lists, the ones that circulated through the entire Empire. And even the local, planetary notices for their capture had been kept to a very low minimum, since they tended to stay out of the flashier, more confrontational missions. Most of that had been at Hera's request. She made excuses, saying that her cell was not yet at full strength and she was still trying to find people she could trust. But really, she was worried what would happen if the delicate network of rebel cells somehow got word that her first mate was a Jedi in hiding.

She and Kanan would find themselves on the front lines, quickly. The Rebellion would expect Kanan to become a great general and lead them as the Jedi led the Republic army in the Clone Wars. She knew he would leave, would run and disappear, before he allowed that to happen.

No, Hera knew that there was more to Kanan Jarrus under the surface, still hiding. She knew there was a hero and a great leader in there, somewhere. But there was still enough of the frightened, traumatized fourteen-year-old boy to give the hero pause. He wasn't ready. On Gorse, he had stopped running, but only because Hera had given him a place to hide.

And she had worked with that. It had taken patience; a _lot_ of patience. But she had been able to begin coaxing out the hero, convincing him it was worth while to stand up and come forth. And it was every once in a while, mainly on those jobs they did for the Rebellion, that Hera thought she could catch glimpses of the boy before all the evil had been done to him; the boy who had known that his place in the universe was to be a great warrior and defender.

But the mission that Fulcrum had just handed her was different. It wasn't sneaking around and getting information or quietly sabotaging Empire parts and supplies that wouldn't get used for months. This was a head-on confrontation. Keeping it low profile was not an option.

But how could she say no? There were lives at stake. And the _Ghost_ was the only ship in the area that could get the job done. Things were changing whether she and Kanan were ready for them or not.

Taking a steadying breath, Hera stood and opened the cockpit door. She made her way aft and found Kanan lounging in the booth in the common room, one leg stretched out on the bench and one leg dangling over the side. He was reading a holo-novel and had that look that told Hera that rest was something that had still eluded him.

"When'd you get back?" Hera asked him, plopping down in the chair in the corner.

"About fifteen minutes or so," Kanan answered, absently, "cockpit door was locked."

"Yeah," Hera said, "I got some intel."

"The Mysterious Fulcrum?" Kanan asked, finally taking his eyes off his holo-novel and looking over at Hera. "You're still not going to tell me anything about him, are you?"

Hera shook her head. "Can't."

"All right," Kanan sighed with a resigned roll of his eyes and set his holo-novel down on the dejarik table, "so, what is it this time? Intercepting Empire transmissions? Swapping a case of fuel cells for contaminated ones?"

Hera bit her lip for a moment and looked away, suddenly interested in a seam in the metal wall. "Oh, just, stealing a shipment of food bound for an Imperial base here on Ord Mantell," she said, trying to make it sound like it was no big deal.

Kanan sat up, the leg that was up on the bench now moving next to the other one on the floor. "Wait, what?"

"I know," Hera assured him.

"But that's-"

"I know."

"Incredibly confrontational!"

"I know!"

"Just the two of us!?"

"Kanan, I _know_!"

There was a long, heavy silence in the room as the two of them stared at each other. Hera could almost physically feel the hesitancy in Kanan. Truth be told, she was feeling a fair amount of it herself.

Kanan finally looked away from her, leaning his elbows on the dejarik table and running his hands through his hair. "Well, we knew this was where it was going to go, eventually, I suppose," he said, "but just the two of us? We're not ready for this."

"We're the only ones in the area," said Hera, "and there's a refugee camp here on Ord Mantell that's starving thanks to their inability to pay shipping taxes on food. If we don't do this, people there will start dying within the week."

With a heavy sigh, Kanan shifted and massaged his forehead. "I know, I know," he said, "we don't really have a choice. I just..." He trailed off with another sigh.

Hera stood and moved over to join Kanan on the bench in the booth. She took one of his hands and held on to it. "This is sooner than I wanted, I'm sorry," she said, "look, if you want to continue keeping a low profile, then I can-"

Kanan shook his hand loose and abruptly stood up from the booth. "Don't you dare even think about doing this alone!" he exclaimed. "You have no choice and I love that about you, Hera. I do, so don't you dare ever change that. But it means that I don't have a choice, either."

Hera stood up from the booth again, pulling Kanan close. "I think it's time to talk to Zeb," she said.

Kanan nodded, pulling her head to lean against his shoulder. "He'll help, I'm sure," he said.

"We can do this."

Kanan didn't answer for a long moment. Then, he gently put a hand to her chin and turned her gaze to his again. "I love you," he said.

Hera gave a small smile. "I know," she said, leaning forward again, resting her forehead against his.

Kanan leaned into the gesture and put his hands at the back of her head as she did the same. They stayed like that, in silence, for a long time, just feeling each others' presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a special shout-out to Kita Ronin who, in a review for Best Empire Day Ever, asked for my take on how the Ghost crew met Sabine. You got my mind working. :-)


	3. Chapter Two

Zeb couldn't help the deep, heavy laugh that escaped him. Kanan and Hera just looked so _earnest_ and _apologetic_ , as if they had kept some horrible, dark truth from him. They had approached the conversation so nervously, as if Zeb was going to roar at them and spit and lash out. It was all just so hilarious. It obviously wasn't the reaction that Kanan and Hera expected, as evidenced by the confused look they exchanged before looking back at Zeb. It only made Zeb laugh even harder.

"Zeb, we're... we're actually serious," Kanan sputtered.

"I know!" Zeb gasped out between cackles. "That's why it's so funny! The looks on your faces!"

"Zeb, we're not crazy," Hera clipped out, sounding irritated.

"What?" Zeb asked. "No, no, no!" At last, Zeb was able to get a full breath and was finally able to get the laugh under control. "It isn't that at all, no. Really, do you mean to tell me that you thought I hadn't figured it out? For Ashla's sake, I've been living with you for two months! The _Ghost_ isn't that big."

Kanan gave a groan and put his face in his hand, leaning on the dejarik table. For her part, Hera actually looked relieved.

"Well, now that we're on the same page," said Hera with a roll of her eyes, "we have a job that we need to do that Kanan and I can't do alone. We could use your help on it."

"Well, it's not like I'm against sticking it to the Empire or anything," said Zeb, "but why the sudden change? I've run jobs against the Imps with you already. Why bring me in, now?"

"Because this isn't like those other jobs," Kanan said looking back up again, "it's not going to be subtle and they'll probably come after us when we're done."

"If you help us with this, we may not be able to keep you off their Radar," said Hera, "you deserve to know what you're getting into."

Zeb leaned back in the booth, putting a hand to his chin in thought. "A budding, two-man rebellion, huh?"

"Well, three if you join up," Kanan said.

"Three people, against the entire Empire," Zeb mused, "you do realize that it _does_ sound absolutely insane. There is absolutely no way that you'll achieve what you want with just the two of you."

"We know," Kanan said.

"But every rebellion starts with someone," Hera agreed, "and we can't sit and do nothing."

"But," Kanan broke in again, "we'll understand if you don't want-"

"Hold on," Zeb interrupted, holding up a hand, "don't bother finishing that sentence. I'm in."

Kanan and Hera looked at each other again and the confused looks on their faces almost sent Zeb back into hysterics. As it was, he couldn't help the smirk that came when they looked back at him.

"I decided a week ago," Zeb said, "I was just waiting for you two to stop being so skittish. You've been a three-man op for days and just didn't know it."

Kanan looked back over at Hera, giving her a shrug and that look that very clearly said "I told you so." She rolled her eyes at him, then turned back to Zeb.

"But why?" she asked. "If you think it's so hopeless, why help us?"

Zeb gave a sigh and his gaze slid away from them. "Well, like you said," he mumbled, "you gotta start somewhere. And ever since Lasan fell... well, I've been just sort of bouncing around, aimless, not living, not _really_. Working with you two these last couple months, I feel like I woke up. A guy just can't ignore that."

An odd look passed between Kanan and Hera that Zeb didn't expect. An entire conversation happened between them in just a moment. It was Kanan who looked away and broke the contact. He stood up from the dejarik table and began to pace a little, beginning to run a hand through his hair, but stopping himself part way through. For her part, Hera looked back to Zeb, leaving Kanan to whatever thoughts were going through his head.

"Well, we're happy to have you," she said, "I know it's a far cry from the High Honor Guard of Lasan, but-"

Zeb's ears perked up at that. "Wait, how did you know about that?"

"The Bo-Rifle," Hera answered, "it's not exactly a common weapon. I looked it up."

"Well, turn-about's fair play, I guess," Zeb said with a smirk, "but since all our secrets are out in the open, then I suppose we can move on." He almost didn't catch the slight flicker of Hera's eyes back toward Kanan. The man himself still had his back turned and seemed to have stiffened a little. Zeb let all that pass in a moment. "What's the job?" he asked.

"There's an Imperial base not far from here," said Hera, "they're set to receive a large shipment of food and supplies. Word is that most of it was confiscated from people coming to the planet as refugees because they couldn't pay the import tax."

"Which means that the refugee settlement that's also not far from here is starving," Kanan put in, finally rejoining the conversation, "they're on the brink. We're going to take it from the former and give it to the latter."

"Straight up robbery, eh?" Zeb mused. "You guys weren't kidding. This isn't like those other jobs."

Hera gave a nod. "If the Empire IDs us at all, we'll likely be on a wanted list, at least for this system," she said.

Zeb gave a shrug. "If helping starving refugees makes me a bad guy, then kriff it," he said, "let's be bad guys."

* * *

Hera's intel told them the route the Imperial convoy would take to get to the base from the space port several towns away. They were apparently unconcerned about security, only guarding it with one walker and a small contingent of Stormtroopers. But even so, it was still a tall order for the three of them. Pouring over maps and schematics, they had decided on a point of attack; a ravine about midway between the Imperial base and the refugee camp. It was the only ground passage through the small range of mountains that ran perpendicular to the convoy's path.

Kanan moved among the rocky crags on one side of the ravine, a DLT-19 Heavy Blaster Rifle slung over his back, the strap holding in his coat. Spotting a suitable location near a large boulder, he hopped down into a small ditch. Taking the rifle off his back, he unfolded the stock and the bipods at the front and set it on the ground. Then, wrapping a tan scarf around his face and head, he settled in on his stomach, sweeping the ravine below with the rifle's scope.

"This is Specter One, I'm in position," he said into his com-link.

"Specter Four," Zeb's voice replied, "I'm ready too."

"Specter Two, is the _Phantom_ in position?" Kanan asked.

"Confirmed, Specter One," Hera replied, "ready to engage on your signal."

"All right, we all know our targets," said Kanan, "Specter Two, I'm counting on the _Phantom_ to take out that walker, otherwise I won't have a chance."

"I still think I should be the one to do this," Zeb grumbled over the comm, "I'm faster and my weapon is more mobile."

"You're also the only one of your kind in the entire sector, Specter Four," Kanan replied, "I can blend in if they see me. You? Not so much."

"I still don't like it," Zeb mumbled.

"You don't have to like it," Hera cut in to tell him, "you just have to do it."

"Yeah, copy that," Zeb replied, sounding grudgingly resigned.

Several minutes of tense silence passed, the only sound Kanan could hear being the wind moving in the meager grasses and blowing sand.

"Heads up, boys," Hera said, "they're entering the ravine."

Taking his eye off the scope, Kanan looked to the opening of the ravine. Just rounding the edge of the mountain range, he saw the silhouette of an Imperial walker, its two reverse-articulated legs kicking up dust with every step. Immediately preceding it, three transport barges being pulled by speeders and several more speeders mounted up with Stormtroopers besides.

"I have visual," Kanan confirmed.

"Same here," Zeb answered.

"How far out, Specter Two?" Kanan asked.

"They should reach your position in two minutes," Hera answered.

"Time your run so that the walker is here when you shoot it," Kanan said, "I need to get their attention, so they can't be far off." He settled back into the rifle, flipping the safety off and setting the stock against his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his nerves as best he could.

 _Do not anticipate your opponent's movements,_ the voice of his master echoed in his mind, a memory of long ago, _fight so that you control the fight. Limit their options, but react to their movements. Live in the moment._

Hearing the hum of the _Phantom_ 's engines far above, Kanan shook himself out of his reverie and concentrated, his finger covering the rifle's trigger.

"We're go," he breathed into his comm. No going back now.

Hera started her run on the ravine and the _Phantom_ 's engines roared, the sound bouncing off the stone and creating a cacophony. Alarmed, the Stormtroopers turned up to look at it. But just as they came into Kanan's range, the _Phantom_ spouted several shots of blaster-fire, landing squarely in the main body of the walker.

The walker stumbled and fell under the first blast, the full weight of the machine landing on one leg, the stresses causing it to shear off at the joint. Hera's second shot tore through the weakened armor of the body and it burst apart in flames as the _Phantom_ continued past.

The Stormtroopers below were scrambling. A couple had been knocked off their speeders by the blast and were trying to recover. The whole convoy was at a halt and the troopers who were still up were circling in. Kanan chose one mounted trooper and squeezed off a shot. The bolt caught the trooper square in his chest and he went down. Kanan immediately moved to find his next target and the troopers scrambled anew.

The next target that Kanan found had the markings of a commander on his armor. He was the next to fall. Several of the other troopers began pointing in Kanan's general direction and he knew he would only be able to take out one or maybe two more before he would have to move.

The troopers began to lay down some covering fire, but they weren't coming anywhere close to Kanan just yet. Steeling his nerves, Kanan chose one more target and fired. One more trooper went down, but the one at the head of the pack pointed directly in Kanan's direction.

That was Kanan's cue to move. A moment later and blaster bolts were impacting the stone around him. Grabbing the rifle, Kanan rolled back into the ditch to gain his feet.

"This is Specter One, I'm on the move," he exclaimed into his comm, slinging the rifle over his back again, "how many do I have on me?"

"Two speeders and two climbers," Zeb answered, "the speeders will have to go around, but the climbers will be on you, soon."

Walking that fine line between dodging blaster fire and keeping the troopers' attention, Kanan poured on speed as he raced over the crags. "How many does that leave?" he asked.

"Still four," Zeb reported, "I can take 'em."

"No! Negative! I want at least two more!"

Ducking behind another boulder, he shifted the rifle back into his hands again, pressing the stock into his shoulder and taking aim through the scope. He didn't have much time, though, and the shot went slightly wild, landing at the feet of one of the remaining troopers. Two of them moved to begin coming after him and he was back in motion again.

And then a shot rang out from the other side of the ravine. Kanan looked back at the convoy as he ran, noting that the two who were going to come after him had about-faced and had their blasters trained in Zeb's general direction.

"No! Specter Four! That's too soon!" he shouted into the comm, blaster bolts searing the ground only a few feet away.

"Wasn't me!" Zeb answered in surprise. "There's someone else in this ravine! East of me!"

"What?!" Hera's voice rang out over the comm.

An instant later, a series of explosions took place at the end of the ravine opposite where the convoy had entered. Rolling to the ground and sliding into another ditch for cover, Kanan looked to the sound and saw several large boulders that had been knocked loose from the cliff side tumbling to the ground. Another explosion went off, sending more stone to the ravine floor below.

But it wasn't a normal explosion. For some reason it was... blue and purple?

"Fireworks?" Kanan mused to himself.

And then he noticed the effect of the explosions and the fallen rock. The end of the ravine had been blocked off, just in front of the two speeders who had been going around to make for Kanan's position. They skidded to a halt and then wheeled around, heading back toward the convoy.

"Kriff!" Kanan shouted, regaining his feet once he was reasonably certain no more explosions were forth-coming. He dodged some blaster fire only an instant in time to avoid being hit. "Specter Two, we're gonna need some cover fire down here!"

"Copy that!" Hera replied and Kanan already heard the _Phantom_ on approach.

"I can take a couple!" Zeb shouted.

"Negative, Specter Four!" Kanan snapped back, ducking behind a boulder and setting the rifle aside in favor of his more familiar DL-18 pistol. "Do not break your cover! Find that other shooter!"

The two troopers that had climbed the ravine walls after him had now made it to the top and were now chasing after him, their blaster fire still only finding rock on either side of him. Kanan pointed his blaster back at them and let off some covering fire, slowing their progress.

The _Phantom_ shot over his head again, firing her guns. The bolts landed near the troopers that were chasing him, exploding the stone there and pushing the troopers over the side. As the _Phantom_ went on toward the convoy, the troopers tumbled to the ravine floor, far below. Now free to take in the terrain a bit more, Kanan cast about, looking for a path down into the ravine.

"I've got him!" Zeb exclaimed into the comm. "Or... _her_! Some woman in Mandalorian armor!"

"What do the Mandalorians want with this shipment?" Hera mused.

"I dunno," Kanan said, sliding down an inclined ditch that went down the side of the ravine, "maybe she's a bounty-hunter or something. I don't care. Spector Four, stop her!"

"Copy that," Zeb replied, sounding a little too eager.

"I'm moving in on the rest of the troopers," Kanan went on, "and I'll cover the _Phantom_ as she lands for the pickup!"

"What about those speeders?" Hera asked.

"Leave 'em to me," Kanan replied as his feet hit solid ground and he broke into a sprint, heading in the direction of the speeders and the besieged convoy.

Above, near Zeb's position, blaster fire was being exchanged as Zeb's Bo-Rifle joined the cacophony. Kanan fired off a few shots at the speeders, regaining their attention. Skidding, they spun back toward him, firing wild shots as they jinked and dodged to avoid Kanan's fire.

Spotting an outcropping of stone that had formed a natural ramp, Kanan made for that and sprinted up just as the speeders reached his position. He leaped off of it, tackling one of the troopers and latching on for dear life. The other speeder skidded off to the side in alarm. As the other speeder looped around, Kanan grappled with the trooper. He grabbed hold of the trooper's wrist and brought it down hard on the speeder's handlebar, knocking the trooper's blaster out of his hand. The trooper's helmeted head crashed into Kanan's, making him see stars for a moment and sending him reeling back. When the trooper's now-empty hand came at him, Kanan grabbed it and pulled, kicking a leg out at the trooper's torso. The move sent the trooper flying over Kanan's shoulder and moved Kanan into the driver's seat.

Firing off his blaster at the other speeder, he steered that direction and closed distance under the cover. At the last moment, before the two speeders strafed past each other, Kanan held out the butt of his blaster in a fisted grip and aimed it at the trooper's head. The trooper was knocked off-balance, his steering going wild and sending him into a spin as he continued on. A moment later and he careened into the downed rubble at the end of the ravine and exploded into a fireball.

Kanan skidded his speeder to a halt, checking to see if there was going to be any more pursuit from that trooper. He glanced just long enough to see that there was not and then kicked the speeder back into gear, pivoting back toward the convoy.

The _Phantom_ was hovering above it, exchanging fire with the remaining three troopers who had taken up position on the speeders towing the cargo. Kanan opened his speeder's throttle and sped toward them, full-tilt. Above, he could still hear Zeb and the mystery shooter going at it.

And then, Kanan's attention was subject to another distracting pull, upward, to Zeb's confrontation. A lithe figure leaped from the ravine wall into the air, kicking in the engine of a jetpack and turning back to fire dual blasters at Zeb. In an instant, the image slammed into him; a woman in Mandalorian armor, painted blaze orange and neon pink. He felt punch-drunk with the sight of it, feeling that damned _pull_ again.

The only thing that stole his attention back was the blaster fire that came his direction from the convoy. He was heading straight toward the lead tug-speeder and locked in his course. Panicked, the trooper fired shot after shot, each one missing by inches. At the last second, Kanan leaped from his speeder, momentum carrying him forward over the trooper and the cargo. Kanan's speeder slammed into the trooper's, sending up a momentary fireball as Kanan slammed into the ground and rolled to a stop.

Every muscle aching, Kanan picked himself up off the ground slowly, seeing the other two tug-speeders reeling to either side of the explosion. The _Phantom_ jinked over one of them, allowing it to skid beneath and then veered to the side, sending the speeder into the ravine wall and shearing the tug cables off with the impact. The last trooper, finding that he was the last Imperial standing, jerked his tug-speeder around and made for the entry to the ravine that the convoy had passed through on their way in.

Kanan felt large hands helping him to his feet. As his head cleared, he wondered when Zeb had gotten to the ravine floor.

"C'mon, hot shot," Zeb growled out, tugging him in the direction of the cargo and the _Phantom_ where Hera had already landed and was pushing the loose cargo into the back hatch, "we're not done yet."

As they ran, fire rained down around them again. The sound of the Mandalorian's jetpack rumbled as it passed over them, making for the _Phantom_.

Hera was just reaching to unhook the remaining cargo from the speeder. Desperately, Kanan fired off several shots, trying to give her cover. But the Mandalorian's fire landed right next to Hera, sending a spray of stone up into her face. She reeled back, landing hard on the _Phantom_ 's cargo ramp.

The Mandalorian cut her jetpack and landed in the seat of the last tug-speeder, still covering herself from Kanan and Zeb's approach. As they came close, Zeb leaped for her, but she hit the throttle and lurched forward. Zeb landed in a roll next to the _Phantom_ and moved to protect Hera as Kanan continued firing shots to cover them both. As she sped past him, the Mandalorian dropped several small, spherical devices that beeped and flashed.

"Go! Go! Go!" Kanan shouted and sprinted for the _Phantom_ , grabbing Hera's arm that Zeb didn't have and pushing them all forward. He slammed the heel of his hand into the control to close the hatch and scrambled over the cargo crate to the controls.

He opened the _Phantom_ 's throttle and got them in the air just as there was a resounding _whump_ noise from the aft. The shuttle jerked with the shock wave of several small explosions just beneath it. And then, as they climbed skyward at full speed and then some, everything lapsed into silence.

"Take it easy, Hera," Zeb was saying.

"Is she all right?" Kanan snapped back, still running on adrenaline.

"I'm all right, love," Hera replied and she and Zeb came forward, "just got the wind knocked out of me."

Kanan glanced over at her. "You're bleeding," he said, "Zeb?"

"On it," said the Lasat, already reaching for the first aid kit. "Does someone want to tell me what in Ashla's name just happened? Who the kriff was that Mando?"

"I dunno," Kanan replied, "but whoever she is, she made off with a third of the cargo and prevented us from getting the last third. I am _not_ happy."

"Join the club," Hera groused, now seated on one of the fold-out seats in the back of the shuttle. She gave a hiss through her teeth as Zeb dabbed some disinfectant on the small cut just above her eye. She looked forlornly at the single crate they had managed to grab and sighed. "There's no way this will be enough food and supplies for all of the refugees."

"So what do we do?" Zeb asked. The question was met with silence.

Kanan felt that damnable tug in the Force again, trying to tell him to turn around, to go after the Mandalorian. But another look at Hera being tended to by Zeb steeled his heart away from it.

"This will have gotten a lot of attention," he finally said, pulling his scarf off his head and setting a course into the controls, "we're going back to the _Ghost_ for now to lay low. We'll figure out what to do then."

* * *

With a heavy sigh, Hera replaced the lid on the cargo crate. She had just finished an inventory and as she had expected there wasn't nearly enough supplies for the refugee camp. On the up side, what was there was good stuff; a few well-stocked medical kits, a couple small generators, and military-grade food rations.

"Better than nothing, I suppose," she mused with a shake of her head.

Leaving the cargo hold, she climbed the ladder to the main deck and entered the common area. Kanan and Zeb were seated at the booth, watching the holographic news on the dejarik table projector.

"Anything?" she asked, taking a seat on one of the stools.

"Four hours and no news of us yet," Zeb rumbled.

"Guess the Empire doesn't want it widely known that they can't even protect a simple supply shipment," Kanan added. "How's your head?"

Hera's fingers gingerly brushed over the butterfly bandages that were holding closed the small gash above her eye. "It's fine, love," she said, "stop worrying."

"Can't help it," Kanan replied, his eyes settling back on Hera for a moment and twinkling slightly.

Zeb rolled his eyes. "Ugh, get a room, but do it later," he said, "we've got bigger fish to fry right now."

Hera nodded in agreement. "We didn't get nearly enough supplies," she told them, "we _might_ be able to feed the children at the camp, but that's about it. We need the rest of that shipment."

"Which means we need to find that Mandalorian," Kanan said, leaning back in the booth and putting chin to his hand in thought.

"And wherever that trooper took the last crate," Zeb put in.

"Well, I think I made a contact in town earlier," said Hera, "I'll go talk to him and see if he knows anything. Hopefully, without the Stormtroopers this time. Any idea why there's so many of them in this backwater?"

"They're looking for some girl named Sabine Wren," Kanan answered, "I had a bit of a run-in."

"Uh... you mean _that_ Sabine Wren?" Zeb asked, pointing at the holo projector.

Kanan and Hera looked back to the projector. Floating in the air was a larger image of the same holo that Kanan had seen earlier, in the hands of the Stormtrooper in town; a young woman, dressed as an Imperial Cadet, shoulder-length brown hair pulled back into a neat braid.

"Turn it up," said Hera. Zeb obliged, fiddling with the volume control.

"This woman is considered to be armed and dangerous," the broadcast announcer was saying, "if you see her, contact Imperial authorities immediately. Again, Sabine Wren is wanted for desertion of the Imperial Academy. If any individuals are found helping her to evade capture-"

"The usual rhetoric," Hera mused letting the announcer continue without their attention, "for a teenage girl? Something tells me she did more than just desert. They want her too badly."

"You want to find her, don't you?" Kanan said with a sigh. Hera thought it was a little more dramatically resigned than was really necessary and couldn't help the confused look she gave him.

"Well, yeah," she said, "she's a teenage girl on her own and on the run from the Empire. She needs help. And besides, whatever she did to make them so mad at her, I want to know."

Kanan's head fell back against the seat of the booth, his eyes closing and giving a groan of frustration. He muttered something under his breath that she didn't quite catch.

"Kanan?" she asked. "Something you want to share with the class?"

"Not right now, no," he replied sourly, his eyes darting to Zeb for half a second as he leaned forward onto the edge of the dejarik table, "but Hera, like I said, I had a run-in with her. She didn't seem to want any help."

"Well, if the offer was coming from _your_ grumpy mouth, I can't say I blame her," said Zeb with a chuckle, poking Kanan's shoulder.

Kanan sighed again. "I'm out-voted on this, aren't I?"

"Looks that way," Hera said giving him a wry smile, "Zeb, I want you to stay on the ship with Chopper and keep monitoring the news feeds. Kanan and I will head back into town and see what information we can dig up on the supply shipment and the girl."

Kanan gave another sigh and slouched back down into the booth.

"Geeze, what'd this girl ever do to you?" Zeb asked. "Must have been some run-in."

"Just leave it, Zeb!" Kanan snapped, jerking up out of the booth and heading forward to disappear into his cabin.

There was a long moment of silence between Hera and Zeb, the only sound being the on-going newscast on the holo.

"He's been grumpier than usual," Zeb said, "what's eating him?"

Hera paused, looking for the correct words. She was really coming to like and trust Zeb and she didn't want to lie to him. But she didn't want to betray Kanan's trust, either.

"I'm... not sure," she finally decided upon, her eyes sliding away from the Lasat, "but I'll talk to him. Just let me handle it."

"You're the boss," Zeb said with a shrug, sliding out of the booth, "but just let me know if he needs a kick in the head. Happy to help with that." He took his leave, heading for his own cabin.

"More like a slap in the face," Hera muttered to herself.

* * *

Hands shoved into the pockets of his coat and eyes stubbornly on the ground ahead of him as he walked, Kanan stalked over the sandy ground with Hera trailing behind. They had walked half a click already without either of them saying anything and Kanan could sense that she was getting irritated with him for it.

"All right, Zeb's not here," Hera finally said, using _that_ voice, "time to spill."

"Nothing to tell," Kanan grumbled.

"Poodoo," Hera shot back at him, "you nearly took Zeb's head off back there!"

"Zeb's a big boy," Kanan snapped back, "he'll get over it!"

"Oh yeah?" Hera said, stopping in her tracks, crossing her arms over her chest. "And what about me?"

Kanan came to a halt, scrubbing a hand down his face before he turned back to look at her. "What!? What do you want from me!?" he asked, spreading his arms wide at her.

"Oh, I dunno," Hera griped back at him, hands on hips, "maybe a little communication from my _partner_? I'm having to read between the lines, Kanan, and I'm not sure I've got it right!"

"There's nothing to read!"

"Bantha-crap!"

Something about the way she had said that cut straight to Kanan's heart. He very nearly flinched at the tone. She was right. And he knew she knew she was right. And the look in her eye told him that she wasn't going to budge. He couldn't stand the look and turned away from her, making to continue on their way without any further discussion. But Hera was faster, darting forward and grabbing his arm.

"I _am_ right, aren't I?" she pressed.

Grinding his teeth together, Kanan stopped again and closed his eyes before shaking loose of her grasp to turn back to her.

"Fine! Yes! Yes, you're right!" he snapped. "I'm having a... _feeling_ -feeling that's telling me to find the girl, all right? Just like I had with Zeb and just like I had with you! Are you happy now?"

Hera looked a little shocked for a moment, her eyes darting around as if to look at anything but his for a moment. But then the anger and frustration returned.

"No!" she snapped, giving him a strong shove in the chest that sent him stumbling back a couple steps. "You can't keep running from this, Kanan!"

"Why not!?"

"Because it's a part of who you _are_!"

"Yeah, well, it _can't_ be!" Kanan roared back, the floodgates finally breaking. He felt the rest of it all tumbling out of his mouth in a torrent. "It isn't a gift, Hera, it's a curse! It's a death-mark! Nothing good has _ever_ come of me turning to it! Everything ends in fire and _misery_! So, yes, I am running from it! And I'm going to _keep_ running from it! Because it doesn't _love_ anyone! Not you, not that girl, not Zeb, and _certainly_ not me! It isn't some benevolent presence that cares about us! It's just _there_!"

She was staring at him aghast and the torrent finally calmed, leaving Kanan almost breathless. He was trapped in her wide-eyed gaze, unable to look away. She wasn't angry any more. That had given way to fear and sadness and Kanan suddenly felt cold, frozen in place, down to his very soul.

"But it led you to me," she finally said, just loud enough to be heard over the wind, "and that hasn't ended in fire and misery."

"And I'm trying to _keep_ it that way," he answered, his voice breaking a little, desperation beginning to seep into him, "if I turn to it for help, the Empire will find me. And then they'll kill me. And probably anyone..."

He trailed off, finally shaking himself loose of her gaze, his eyes darting around to everything else, _anything_ else. He didn't want to say it, as if to do so would bring it down upon them both. But it wouldn't stay in.

"And probably anyone with me."

The wind blew, sand swirling about them and the rattle of dry grass susurrating in between them. The two of them stood staring at each other, toe-to-toe, until the wind passed and all was silent once again.

"I'm not afraid," Hera finally said.

"But I am!" Kanan insisted, placing his hands on her shoulders. "If the Empire killed you because of me... I couldn't bare it!"

"It doesn't matter."

"Hera-"

"No! Listen!" she interrupted, putting a hand on one side of his face. "I'm not afraid of that, Kanan. And you shouldn't be, either. Because you and I both know, that if the Empire kills me because of you... you'll already be dead. And because who I choose to be with is for _me_ to decide. Not the Empire. And not the Force. And I want to be with _all_ of you."

Kanan let his head fall forward, breath leaving him in something almost like a sob. He cut that off and closed his eyes, taking another breath.

"You're out of your mind," he said, letting go of her shoulders and turning away to begin walking toward town again.

"Kanan, where are you going?" Hera called after him, sounding somewhat alarmed.

"To find the girl," shouted back over his shoulder, unable to keep the resignation and dread from his voice, "just go... talk to your contact."

As he continued on, leaving her to her own course, he could almost feel the relief and the smile coming from her. It almost drowned out the dread.

Almost.

* * *

Sulmest's Cantina wasn't any busier in the evening hours. So once again, it was a hopeless cause to think that one could get lost in a crowd and avoid notice. But at least this time there weren't any bucket-heads. Hera couldn't be certain, but it looked like the rest of the bar's patrons hadn't changed from the people she had seen there the day before. She was pretty sure the music hadn't changed either.

Almost before Hera's eyes could fully adjust to the lower light, she heard the friendly voice of the bartender directed at her.

"Hey, Green!" Greeg said, sounding surprised. "Didn't expect to see you back... well, _ever_ to be honest, let alone this soon."

"Job sort of went sideways," Hera answered, leaning up against the bar, "we ended up in town an extra couple of days while we sort out the mess." She set a couple credits down on the bar and Greeg obliged by pouring a drink of something orange from a bottle and made change.

"That right?" he asked. "Must be a trend, from what I hear, shipping jobs going cockeyed."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, heard some troopers in here a couple hours ago talking about one of their convoys that got attacked," he replied, "though, I ain't seen it on the holos at all, yet. So, who knows if it's true."

"The troopers say anything about who did it?" Hera asked, absently pushing a couple of the credits from her change back toward him. His eyes darted to them for half a second before he looked back up at her.

"Didn't sound like they knew," Greeg answered, "at least that these guys had heard. Dunno about the higher-ups, a'course." He topped off her drink and a little bit of the liquid spilled onto the bar. "Said it was some sort of supply run, though; standard medical supplies and food and the like. Nothin' the Empire's gonna miss."

While he was speaking, Hera noticed in her peripheral vision, he was running fingers through the liquid he had spilled. On the top of the bar, he traced out two lines parallel to each other but for a diamond-shaped bulge at the center of their length. Hera met his gaze, giving a nod.

"Well, from what I hear they're not exactly sending it where it's needed, anyway," she replied, swirling her finger in her drink and then tapping the bar twice, making two dots on either side of the lines just above the bulge. The corner of Greeg's mouth turned up just slightly.

"Too true," Greeg replied, "I mean, they've been sending so much stuff to that new base they're setting up to the north, seems like the main base can't have much left. Don't think the new place has much space left for troopers, too!"

"I wonder what they're doing up there," Hera mused, meaningfully, as she watched Greeg clear away the spilled liquid, "when we flew in over the area, we saw what looked like a refugee camp of some sort, but not a smaller base anywhere up there. And it isn't like there's anything of value out here in the middle of nowhere."

"No, but they're sure hot to find something," said Greeg, "they're keeping a pretty close eye on the refugees for some reason, almost like they're lookin' for someone in particular."

"Well, I wouldn't know anything about that," said Hera, taking a swig of her drink, "me and my two partners are just cargo-haulers."

"Just the three of you?" Greeg asked, sounding genuinely surprised. "Sounds like an awful lot of work for three."

"Well, that's actually part of the reason our job went sideways," said Hera, "our employer wants four on this run, so we're looking to hire on a spare hand. It's kind of pressing, since it looks like someone is trying to under-bid us."

Greeg gave a nod. "You can always try the refugees," he said, "a bunch of them are usually looking for day-work."

"Thanks for the tip," Hera replied, draining the rest of her drink. She up-ended the empty glass on the bar and then pushed herself back up straight. "Well, I should get going," she said, "my mess isn't gonna sort itself out, after all."

"Oh! Don't forget yer change," Greeg said, pushing her remaining credits back toward her again.

"Right, thanks," said Hera, reaching for it and meeting Greeg's gaze meaningfully.

"No prob," said Greeg as she made her way back toward the cantina entrance, "good luck sorting out your job, Green."

Looking back over her shoulder as she exited, Hera gave a nod and a wave.

* * *

It welcomed the contact. Of course It did. It wanted Its plaything back. But Kanan Jarrus had no intention of being the Force's chew toy. It had spit him out long ago and there was no way he was going to It do it to him again. But just this once, to do just this little thing that wouldn't look suspicious to anyone around him, he would follow where It led. And so, Kanan allowed It in, letting It guide the direction of his steps as he entered Reskin Station.

It wanted him to do more, of course. All of the information around him that the Force was giving him pounded into Kanan's very soul with the force of a hurricane, making him a little dizzy at times. Images flashed into his mind as he walked and it was all he could do to push them aside and focus.

_A boy, standing before him and holding up a tiny blue crystal._

_A Mirialan, dressed all in black, holding a dual-bladed saber, glowing red._

_Two blades of pure white, tipping the balance of a fight in favor of the light._

_The image of a fire-bird, taking to wing in an explosion._

His head pounding, Kanan ducked into a deserted back alley and leaned against a wall, tiredly. Closing his eyes for a moment, he tried to rub some of the tension out of his neck and shoulders, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand. Every part of him was buzzing with energy and his heart was pounding.

He had never completely given up meditation. He did it strictly in private, of course, when he was completely certain absolutely no one was going to be seeing him for hours. But rather than use it to get in touch with the Force, he had used it as a way to control the connection, to wall it off and shut it down. Opening a door in that wall was overwhelming. It was going to take him days to regain control over it.

_The Mandalorian woman, shooting her twin pistols at them._

As Kanan pushed that image aside, he suddenly realized that he was in the same back alley where he had run into Sabine Wren the day before. He stubbornly focused his thoughts on the girl and his attention was drawn across the street, to the stoop and door where he had wrestled with the Dug.

He sighed. Things could never happen the easy way.

Steeling himself, Kanan walked across the street to the stoop, surreptitiously checking up and down the street for any of the wandering patrols of Stormtroopers. Thankfully, there were none in sight. When he reached the door, he knocked on it, four times, loudly. There was a disgruntled-sounding muttering from behind the door a few moments later, just before it was pulled open and the irritated face of the Dug poked out and looked up at him.

Whatever it was that came out of the Dug's mouth was probably not intended for young audiences.

"Hey, not trying to make trouble," Kanan said, putting his hands up in defense, "just looking for some information. I'm looking for a girl, yellow and green hair?"

The Dug's eyes went wide and he snapped out something else in a tone that suggested it was a command, then moved to slam the door shut. Kanan was faster, though, sticking a foot in to keep the door from closing. The Dug growled, but was silenced a moment later when Kanan sent his other knee into the door, right about where the Dug's head was on the other side. The Dug went reeling back into the building and Kanan followed, pushing through the door and quickly closing it behind him and leaning on it.

"So, you _do_ understand Basic," he said to the Dug, "I thought as much. Like I said, I'm just here for information. I can make it worth your while, but only if you talk _to_ me instead of _at_ me."

The Dug gave a groan somewhere between angry and resigned as he got his front arms back under him again and rubbed at the sore spot on his forehead with one of his back hands.

"Damned Human poodoo," he ground out, "both you and the Stormtroopers. You some kind of bounty hunter or something?"

"Something like that," Kanan said with a shrug, "do you care?"

"No."

"Uh hmm," Kanan said with a nod, "Sabine Wren. You were supposed to make contact with her yesterday."

"You mean before you fouled it up and spooked her off," the Dug spat.

"Hey, she was about to come running over to you right in front of the Stormtroopers who were looking for her," Kanan pointed out, "the way I see it, I saved you from being arrested along with her by association. You owe me."

The Dug snorted, incredulously. "Then that almost makes up for the job you screwed up for the both of us," he said, "almost. So I say we're even. You said you'd make this worth my while, so do it or get out." He held out one of his back hands as if to accept something.

Kanan sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching into the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled out a gold credit chip and placed it in the Dug's outstretched hand. The Dug glared at him as if insulted, and Kanan put another into his hand.

"How she got here, I dunno, but she's trying to get off-world before the noose tightens on her," he said, "those troopers just about have her cornered."

"That I already knew," Kanan said, grabbing the Dug's wrist and keeping him from stowing the credits, "I need to know where she is and how I can find her."

Grinding his teeth, the Dug scowled up at him. "Rumor has it she's been going back and forth to the refugee camp outside town. Makes sense. New people coming and going all the time, it's about the best place to get lost. What's your business with her, anyway?"

"Well, if you wanna know that, then I get one of those back," Kanan replied, indicating the credits in the Dug's closed fist.

The Dug jerked aside, tearing his wrist out of Kanan's grasp. "That's all I know," he barked, "get out."

With a smirk and a sarcastic wave, Kanan pulled the door open again and slipped back outside. The door slammed shut after him only a second later.

As he turned and stepped off the stoop, his attention was urgently grabbed to a spot further up the street. Before he even realized what was doing the grabbing, he was turning that direction. There were Stormtroopers there, comparing their hologram to yet another young Human woman. He was certain that they were the same ones he had played drunk for the day before, probably on a regular patrol.

He couldn't be seen coming out of the Dug's building or they would know something was up. Before they had a chance to notice him, he shrugged out of his coat and rested it over an arm, then continued on his way in the opposite direction, hoping it would be enough that they wouldn't associate him with the drunk they had seen wrestling the Dug.

"I'm not here, I'm no one important," he whispered to himself.

And then he felt a surge in the Force, anxiously leaping out of him and flowing toward the troopers. As soon as he recognized it, Kanan clamped down on It.

"That's enough of that for one day," he muttered to himself, pushing aside the vibrating tendril of the Force that was trying to wrap itself around him. Brick-by-brick, he started rebuilding the wall again.

He had the information he needed. The rest he could do on his own. All roads were leading to the refugee camp. It was time to find Hera and get back to the _Ghost_.

* * *

At this point in the planet's revolution around its star, sunset on Ord Mantell was a very abrupt thing. Scarcely fifteen minutes went by between the sun showing its full face in the sky and being completely hidden below the horizon.

As soon as they were certain it was dark enough, Zeb, Hera, and Kanan had loaded the meager supplies they had pilfered onto the _Phantom_ , re-packaged in a series of duffels and backpacks that could be easily carried. On their way to the refugee camp, they ditched the Imperial Logo emblazoned crate into a small lake. Hera had then landed them about ten minute's walk from the camp, in the midst of a series of rocky crags that the _Phantom_ could hide in.

As he hiked along behind them, a large duffel slung over his back, Zeb noticed that Kanan and Hera were strangely subdued. Kanan seemed jumpy and distracted. For some reason, that was, in turn, distracting Hera. And he couldn't quite put a finger on it, but he had the feeling that there was some sort of a disagreement looming between them. Whatever was going on, their attention was elsewhere. So Zeb kept his ears perked and his eyes open. Even so, he found it difficult to take the awkward silence.

"So, do they know we're coming?" he finally asked, just to break up the silence and the steady crunch of sand beneath their feet.

"Doubtful," Hera replied, "my intel said they had put out a general call for help through back channels, but it's unlikely they would have heard a reply."

That seemed to be all the explanation he was going to be given. Hera said nothing more. So Zeb turned his attention to Kanan.

"So, Kanan, about earlier," he ventured, "I sort of get the impression I said something you didn't like."

Kanan didn't make any response. He simply kept walking.

"Uh, Kanan?" Zeb prodded. When there was still no response, he reached for his comm and toggled it. "Specter Four to Specter One, are you there?" he said sarcastically.

The beep of the comm and Zeb's voice coming over his own link shook Kanan out of whatever funk he was wandering through. He jumped, reaching for the comm on reflex before he seemed to realize that Zeb was right there.

"Yes!" he exclaimed. "Zeb, sorry. What were you saying?"

Zeb rolled his eyes with a groan. "I was _trying_ to apologize for whatever it was I said earlier that made you go thermal," he said, "but if you're not interested-"

"No, no, no, Zeb," Kanan said with a frustrated sigh, putting a hand to his temple, "you didn't say anything. It's just been a tiring couple of days, that's all."

When it didn't seem that Kanan was going to elaborate, Hera sidled up next to him and elbowed him in the rib-cage with a glare. Kanan suppressed a winded grunt, then looked back over to Zeb again.

"And I'm sorry that I blew up at you," he blurted out, his eyes darting away before any meaningful eye-contact could be made.

"Ah forget about it," Zeb said with a wave of his hand as they crested over the top of a hill, "everyone's entitled to a bad day, now and then, I suppose. If you're good, I'm good."

"Look, can we just let it go?" Kanan asked, almost sounding desperate. "Please? I really just don't want to talk..."

Kanan stopped dead in his tracks just as he caught sight of the rock formation that came into view below, looking like something had slapped him across the face. A soft glow was emanating from the center of the formation, flickering as if something was casting shadows against the rock faces as it moved. They had arrived at the camp and something about it had caught Kanan's attention.

"Kanan?" Hera asked. "What is it?"

"I thought..." Kanan began, then trailed off, shaking his head, "I thought I... heard something."

"I didn't hear anything," Zeb offered.

"Are you sure?" Hera asked Kanan at very nearly the same moment.

Kanan stood there for a long moment, looking down at the rocks which concealed the camp below them, a far-away look in his eyes, as if remembering something he had forgotten.

"I think," he said quietly, cautiously, "we should take cover."

"Cover?" Zeb asked. "From a bunch of half-starved refugees? Why?"

As if in answer, a section of rock near them suddenly blasted apart in a hail of rocks. The echo of a blaster bolt reverberated off the hill and the stones below.

"Okay, cover from that!" Zeb exclaimed as all three of them ducked behind a stone outcropping, drawing their weapons.

Zeb scanned the area around them for any sign of a shooter, his eyes finally catching movement from a small alcove at the top of one of the points of rock below. He caught sight of pink and orange Mandalorian armor just before blaster fire flashed again.

"Karabast, it's the Mandalorian!" Zeb exclaimed.

"What? How'd she track us?" Hera asked as Zeb popped back up over their outcropping to fire a couple of covering blasts from his Bo-Rifle.

"I don't think she did," Kanan said, almost absently, popping back up with Zeb to brace his own blaster on the stone next to them.

In answer to Zeb's cover-fire, the Mandalorian was on the move, nimbly hopping from one stone spire to the next one over and ducking behind it, firing off a couple shots from both her blasters as she went. Kanan fired off a couple of shots in answer.

"Think she's trying to collect a bounty on Wren?" Hera offered as a theory.

"I dunno," Kanan replied, "but she's shooting at us which probably means she recognizes us from the ravine."

"What do we do?" Hera asked.

"We could flank her," Zeb suggested.

"Good idea," Kanan agreed, "I'll hold her attention here. Hera, go right, Zeb left. Then fire when I tell you." He popped up over their stone outcropping again and fired off several more shots.

Ducking down below the ridge line, Zeb made his way toward the left end of the hill. Kanan and the Mandalorian continued to exchange fire and Zeb saw several moments where a part of Kanan's cover was blasted apart into sand. The Mandalorian went out of his view for a moment as he circled round and he poured on some speed until he was able to see the target again.

"Specter Four, in position," Zeb said into his comm.

"Stand by," Hera's voice answered. It was another agonizing moment before she came over the comm again. "Specter Two in position."

"We need her alive," Kanan said into the comm, "on my signal, shoot the ground out from under her, get her down to surface and be ready to move in."

"What about her jetpack?" Zeb asked.

"She doesn't have it," Kanan said, hurriedly, still shooting in the Mandalorian's direction frantically, "on my signal."

Zeb took aim at the ledge of rock that the Mandalorian was standing on, his finger itching over the trigger, watching her send another volley Kanan's way.

"Now!" Kanan shouted into the comm. Zeb heard the report of his blaster renewing his efforts.

Zeb's finger squeezed the trigger, sending a blast directly into the stone under the Mandalorian's feet. An answering blast came from Hera's side. The Mandalorian stumbled and Zeb let out another shot, shattering the little stone shelf she was perched on.

Dropping her blasters, the Mandalorian reeled backward, her arms pinwheeling for a moment before she lost her balance entirely and tipped over the side. She fell about ten feet before hitting a steep, rocky incline, rolling down to the ground in a cascade of small rubble.

"Go!" Kanan shouted.

Zeb leaped over the little bit of cover he had been hiding behind and sprinted in the direction that he saw both Kanan and Hera moving, a spot between the stone spires on the ground that seemed to serve as some sort of an entrance to the camp. He couldn't see the Mandalorian from where he was, but trusted that Kanan had a line on her and raced his direction to back him up.

But, he very nearly ran into Kanan when the human skidded to a halt on the sand, surprise on his face and lowering his blaster. Regaining his own feet, Zeb pivoted toward the camp entrance and leveled his Bo-Rifle in that general direction, his eyes coming around to it an instant later just as Hera was coming into range as well.

And then, Zeb saw what had brought Kanan up short. The Mandalorian was slowly, stiffly, picking herself up off the ground with the help of several of the refugees. Between her and the Specters, a line of people were standing, holding up pitchforks, make-shift spears, anything sharp really, and pointing them their direction.

"Wait, they're _defending_ her?" Hera asked, tentatively lowering her own blaster.

"Of course we're defending her!" said the one in the center of the defensive line, a cone-headed Cerean with brown hair and beard, dressed in rough, threadbare clothing of a farmer. "She's one of us! And she's been doing the same for us for weeks!"

"Okay, that I didn't see coming," Zeb muttered, lowering his Bo-Rifle.

"There's been a misunderstanding," Kanan said, stepping forward and holstering his blaster, "we're not here to attack, we're here to help." Slowly, Kanan pulled the backpack he was carrying off his shoulders and set it on the ground to open it and show the leader of the refugees the contents. "We understand you called for aid. We're answering."

The Cerean slowly lowered his makeshift spear, eyeing Kanan warily. After a moment, he nodded to the other refugees in the defensive line and they, too, lowered their weapons.

Slowly, the Cerean came forward and reached into the backpack that Kanan had set down. He pulled out a ration pack, its packaging still stamped with the Imperial logo.

"You're the other three from the ravine," he said, "the others who attacked the convoy."

"We had no idea she was trying to steal the supplies for you as well," Hera offered.

"I'm Kanan," he said, "this is Hera, and Zeb."

"I am Pri-Fala-Hetcho," said the Cerean, "and for some reason this lot has decided to allow me to speak for them when speaking is needed. You heard our call for help?"

"In a sense," Hera answered, "someone who did sent us. We don't mean to cause trouble. If you'd prefer, we'll leave these supplies with you and leave. Though we were hoping to get some information."

"We're looking for a teenage girl that the Empire is trying to find," said Kanan, "we're trying to help her get off-world before she's caught. Do you have a Sabine Wren in your camp?"

"Are you kidding me?" the Mandalorian said stepping forward to stand next to Pri-Fala, her voice sounding a little angry and modulated by the helmet she was wearing. Zeb saw Kanan's eyes widen a little. The Mandalorian took off her helmet, revealing a short-cropped mass of ombre-dyed hair, fading from golden yellow to green. " _I'm_ Sabine Wren!"

Zeb, Kanan, and Hera all stared at the girl in stunned silence.

And then Hera smacked Kanan on the shoulder and shot a glare his direction, holstering her blaster.

"Ow! Hey!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?" Hera simply crossed her arms over her chest and continued to glare. "What!?"

Yeah, something was happening between those two.

Pri-Fala gave a heavy sigh beckoning the Specters forward as he turned. "Well, you might as well come into the camp," he said, "we can get all of this sorted out."

As the refugees began to disperse, Kanan looked over at Hera with a nervous grin and a shrug. She whacked him in the shoulder again, but didn't say anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never written a three-way fight before. Man was that complicated. I actually had to break out some miniatures to keep track of it all. I hope it wasn't too confusing.
> 
> And, yes, I know the revelation about Sabine wasn't terribly shocking to you as a reader. The focus is more on the surprise that the characters have. It's contributing to the shift that's happening with Kanan.


	4. Chapter Three

Zeb had been places like this before. In the days just after Lasan fell, he had found himself in a series of refugee camps. He was almost always the only Lasat, of course, except for the first place he had landed. There had been three others with him on board the shuttle in which he had escaped Lasan and at first they had tried to stay together. Birds of a feather and all that. But the truth of it was that they were all from such different walks of life that they really just didn't get along. One by one, they had each moved on to different destinations.

But, for all his outward gruffness, Zeb was at heart a protector. And protecting such refugee camps was often what he found himself doing. At least, until the Empire swept in and broke up the camp, which happened time and again. He finally got fed up with the cycle, with finding a community and then having it torn away. He went off on his own, turning mercenary, selling his skills as a strong man to anyone willing to pay his price. It wasn't glamorous, but it kept his head above water. He had been able to dull his conscience in bars.

At least until he had run into Kanan. There had been something about the man, about the way he had called that group of Stormtroopers out on their bantha-crap, and then proceeded to back it up with some pretty impressive fighting skills. All while somewhat inebriated. Kanan had in turn introduced Zeb to Hera and he found that that night in the bar was not the only time Kanan stood up and said "no" to the Empire.

But he never forgot about those refugee camps. So finding himself in one again, handing out food to skinny, malnourished children brought it all back. And the young girl next to him, in brightly-painted Mandalorian armor, helping to hand out the supplies, had a look about her that Zeb recognized all too well.

Sabine was just handing the last food ration to a young Caamasi and ruffling his fur with a smile before sending him on his way.

"Well, that's it," Zeb said to her with a shrug, "wish there was more."

"At least we could get a little bit of food to everyone," Sabine said with a sigh, "but, there's nothing in reserve. I'm back to square one, again."

" _We're_ back at square one," Zeb corrected.

Sabine gave him a sour look. "Like I told tall, dark, and goateed," she said, "I don't need anyone's help. I've been managing on my own."

"Uh huh," Zeb replied, skeptically, putting his hands on his hips, "and you did so well getting this shipment away from both us _and_ the Empire."

Sabine gave him a cocky smirk, crossing her arms over her chest. "Got as much of it as the three of you combined did, didn't I?"

"Yeah, yeah, you got skills, I'll give you that," Zeb said, "but just because you can do things alone, doesn't mean that it's always a good idea. Kit, let us help you pull this place away from the brink. The four of us together might be able to do ten times what any of us can do by ourselves."

"It isn't up to me," Sabine said with a shrug, heading to the large tent in the center of the camp, "it's Pri-Fala's call. He's the only one that everyone in the camp trusts to make decisions like this."

Zeb watched her walk away for a moment, shaking his head sadly and giving a sigh before following her to the tent.

Inside, in the soft glow of make-shift gas candles, Kanan and Hera were gathered around a table with Pri-Fala, scattered with charts and maps. Sabine had just joined them when Zeb pulled back the tent flap and entered as well.

"My contact told me that the base has a lot of supplies and not much in the way of personnel," Hera was saying as he joined them.

"And you're sure you can trust this contact?" Kanan asked. "Didn't you say you had just met him?"

"It's complicated, but yes," Hera answered, "I trust my contact."

"I've never heard of such a thing," Pri-Fala said with amazement, "stealing from an Empire base. It would seem to be rather ill-advised."

"It's the only place to get any sort of supplies," Sabine said, "Reskin Station has only enough to get by, themselves. We take from them, we'll just be passing on the problem. I think it's crazy, too, but... we're desperate."

Kanan had a hand to his chin in thought, looking down at the map of the area around the new base with a very faraway look on his face. He seemed about to say something for a moment, but then got lost in his thoughts again.

"Something on your mind, Kanan?" Zeb prompted.

"I just wish we knew what the Empire was doing there," he replied, "it's a little strange, isn't it? All those supplies, almost no one to keep an eye on it?"

"Do you think it's some kind of a trap?" Hera asked.

"For who?" Kanan asked. "We didn't know that Sabine and the Mandalorian were one and the same and it doesn't look like the Empire does, either. And the build-up started before we ever got here and tried to steal that shipment, so they're not after us."

"Maybe not the Mandalorian," Sabine put in, "but they are looking for me. And they would have reason to believe I might try to rob the place and have the skills to do it."

"Because you deserted the Academy," said Hera, "you have training. How long were you there before you left?"

"A year and a half," Sabine answered, "and then I learned more than I ever wanted to know."

"And we'd be interested in hearing all about that," said Hera, "but that's not our priority right now. Kanan, trap or not, it's the best we've got. Can we do it?"

"It'll be tricky," Kanan replied, then looked meaningfully over at Sabine, "but between the four of us, we might be able to pull it off."

"You're assuming an awful lot," Sabine said, a little sourly, "what makes you think I'd work with you? You shot at me!"

"You shot at us, first," Kanan pointed out.

"No, I shot at the _Stormtroopers_ first," Sabine replied.

"And almost hit me in the process," Kanan shot back.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Hera broke in putting up her hands between the two of them, "we're on the same side here. Just because we didn't know that before doesn't mean we can't work together now. The coincidence is too convenient. We should take advantage of it." Her gaze settled on Kanan once more and Zeb saw his spine stiffen a little.

Kanan gave a frustrated sigh, throwing up his hands and turning toward the tent entrance. Without any further words, he tossed the flap aside and went outside.

"What is going _on_ with him?" Zeb asked again, frustrated himself.

"You mean he isn't always this much of a kriffing jerk?" Sabine muttered.

"He's just... a complicated guy," said Hera, "that's all."

"I better go check on him," Zeb said, making for the tent flap. But he was stopped by Hera's hand on his chest.

"No, I got this," she said, "after all, I've been putting up with this sort of thing far longer than any of you. You three just see what you can come up with for raiding that base."

Hera slipped out of the tent, leaving Zeb, Sabine, and Pri-Fala with the maps and charts.

"How long has she been with him?" Sabine asked.

"Years," Zeb answered.

"The woman's a saint."

* * *

Kanan's ability to disappear in just a few seconds was one of the things that Hera had learned to deal with over the years. So she wasn't surprised that he was nowhere in sight when she got out of the tent. The first few times he had done it, she had left him to it, thinking that time alone was actually what he needed. But when he had come back to the _Ghost_ worse off than when he left every single time, she had decided to start chasing after him.

Hera quietly theorized that it was what he actually wanted, whether he knew it or not. Kanan's abandonment issues ran deep and she had quickly learned that showing that she was willing to follow him into his darkness was the better option.

And the darker the better. So Hera made her way to the edge of the camp, away from the gas candles and torches and campfires that kept the place lit with a warm light. The cold light of Ord Mantell's starlit sky was the most likely retreat for him. She circled the outskirts of the camp until she came to a secluded area a stone's throw away. She only saw him because his dark figure, shoulders slumped in weariness, sitting on a large stone, was blocking out a patch of sky.

She didn't say anything as she approached. She knew he knew she was there and it was better to let him start the conversation.

"I told you this would turn into a disaster," he finally said after she had been standing there for over a minute.

"What's so bad about it?" Hera asked, taking that as her cue to approach. She sat down next to him on the stone. "We found Sabine and got the refugees a part of the help they needed. And now we're in a position to help them further. And now that we know that Sabine is the Mandalorian-"

"I should have seen that coming," Kanan said, somewhat absently, shaking his head.

"Why? None of the rest of us did. Unless..." Hera stopped short and looked at him with eyes wide. "You felt a pull to her when we saw her in the ravine, didn't you!"

Kanan sighed and leaned his head in a hand, elbows on his knees. "I thought It was just warning me she was a danger," he replied, "which I already had figured out since she was shooting at us in-" He seemed to realize that he was still speaking and clamped his mouth shut, clearly hoping Hera hadn't caught it.

"In what?" she asked. He grunted out a frustrated growl and looked away. "Kanan?" she pressed, putting on her best voice of authority. "In _what_?"

"In the vision I had two days ago while I was asleep," he reluctantly let spill in a mumble.

"So you _did_ hold out on me." When he didn't look up at her, it was Hera's turn to put a hand to her face in frustration. "Kanan Jarrus, what am I going to do with you?"

"Look, I'm out of practice, all right," he said, "this isn't an exact science to begin with and I haven't done it in a long time. Trying to keep It at bay has me distracted."

"You've never been particularly distracted by It before," she said, "why now?"

"Because I let It in on purpose," he replied, "shutting It back out again... takes days of quiet focus. That's time we don't have right now. So I'm stuck with It and It's roaring in my head."

"Well, if it's roaring and you can't shut it out, why not listen to what it has to say?"

He gave another frustrated sigh. "But that's just it. It isn't saying anything, any more. It led us to the camp and to Sabine and now It's just... present."

"Well, maybe that means we're on the right track," Hera offered.

"But, I can't _know_ that," Kanan replied.

"Oh, so it's your responsibility to see the future now?" she asked, rhetorically. "Here's the galactic newsflash of the day, Kanan; no one can do that. Force or no Force, we all just have to go with our gut."

"But I don't know that it's my gut I'm going with," said Kanan, "the Force blurs the line between the self and the other. I don't know where I stop and the rest of... everything begins."

Hera gave a small sound of understanding. "I am one with the Force and the Force is with me," she mused.

Kanan looked at her in surprise. "That's an old Jedi meditation," he said, "where'd you hear that?"

"Some Jedi came to Ryloth to help my father during the Clone Wars," she said, "I was just a little girl, but I remember hearing one of them in meditation, using that as a focus. I guess I never really got what it meant until now."

Kanan didn't seem to have anything to say in response to that. He just leaned on his knees again and contemplated the ground in front of him for several seconds.

"There is one good thing about It being in my head," he finally said. She didn't say anything, looking askance at him. "I get to see you in a way I never have before."

Hera felt her cheeks get warm. Her eyes slid away, embarrassed, but his gentle hand brought her back around to face him.

"You have the bravest, most beautiful heart I've ever seen."

Cheeks flushing an even deeper blue, she smiled up at him, laying a hand over his heart. It was moving with a calm and a serenity that she never would have predicted. "It's showing me yours, too."

Kanan gave a faint smile, reaching one hand up to grasp on to hers. Silently, they leaned into each other and gazed up at the stars.

"What does it look like out there?" she asked.

"It's... everything," Kanan answered, sounding almost reverent, "swirling and still, bright and shadowed, warm and cool, impossibly big and stunningly close. It's shimmering. Life."

"Doesn't sound so bad."

* * *

The Imperial base was little more than a handful of temporary shelters and a temporary ray-shield fence. But that was bursting with crates and vehicles and supplies of all sorts.

From their rocky overlook on a hill just to the base's east, Kanan looked down at their target with some trepidation. The closer they got to carrying out their raid, the more he felt the Force telling him to call it off, to return to the camp, that there was danger. He couldn't for the life of him see why. The camp had barely any troopers patrolling it. And they had the rising sun at their backs as cover.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he muttered to no one in particular.

On his left, Sabine had pulled down the scanner on her helmet. It was processing away with tiny chirps and clicks as she panned it over the base below them.

"What do we got, Sabine?" Hera asked.

"Well, looks like it was just as your contact said," she replied, "lots of supplies, not many troopers. Strange supplies for a base, though. With the equipment they've got down there, it looks more like some kind of a mobile unit."

"Well, if it's mobile," Zeb put in, "we should hit it now while we know where it is."

"It's not adding up," Kanan mused, "what's the point of it?"

"Do we care what the point is?" Sabine asked, pushing her scanner back over her helmet again. "I say we go." She shifted her weight, moving to begin an approach.

But Kanan put a restraining hand on her shoulder, pushing her back into their cover. "Just wait, Paint Job," he said, "have a little patience."

"For what?" Sabine asked, incredulous. "What are you waiting for?"

As if in answer, Hera's comm link chirruped and then emitted Chopper's frantic sounding mechanical voice.

"Slow down, Chop, what is it?" Hera said into the link softly. The droid answered in several hurried buzzes and hums. "What? A transport? How big?" Chopper's answer did not sound encouraging.

"What's happening?" Kanan asked.

"Chopper says there's an Imperial troop transport heading straight for us," Hera replied, "a big one."

"How big?" Zeb asked.

"Uhm, that big," Sabine said, pointing to the south-west.

The four of them watched with growing dread as a trooper transport swept into view and hovered over the base for a moment. It was big; almost twice as big as the ones Kanan remembered seeing carrying Republic troops during the Clone Wars. As it landed, kicking up dust, the ray-shield fence around the base dropped. Then the transport opened and troopers began to disembark.

"Karabast," said Zeb as they watched scores of troopers exit the craft and form ranks near the base, "that's a lot of bucketheads."

"They just keep coming," said Hera, "how many do they have packed on to that thing?"

"Too many for us," said Kanan, "I'm calling off the attack, but I want to find out what they're up to."

Hera nodded her agreement and they all turned their attention to the scene below them, Sabine engaging her scanner once again. They watched as a unit commander gave out assignments to the troopers and they all scrambled to obey. Several of them made for the vehicles that were sitting within the bounds of the base, pulling tarps off of them and climbing aboard to start them up. Others removed speeders from waiting containers and mounted up.

"This is a cavalry," said Zeb.

"Yeah," Kanan agreed, "and this isn't a base. It's a staging area for an attack."

"But there's nothing out here," said Hera, "what are they attacking?"

"Oh no," Sabine breathed, her attention now focused on the commander who was speaking to the trooper who had been in charge of the staging area's guards. Kanan looked to it and saw the commander who had just arrived holding up a holo and showing the base commander an image.

"Wait," said Kanan, "is that-?"

"That's me," Sabine affirmed, her voice filled with dread, "they're looking for me."

"All of this for just you?" Hera asked. "You must have really made them mad."

"No," Zeb said, his voice sounding grave, "not just for her. I've seen this before. If the Empire has a target that's hidden among civilians, the assumption is that-"

"The civilians are helping their target," Kanan finished with realization, "they're going after the refugee camp."

"And they usually go in shooting," said Zeb.

Sabine turned her back to their stone outcropping and sat on the ground, pulling her legs in. "This is all my fault!" she exclaimed. "They're going to attack the refugees just because of me! I'm such an idiot!"

"They're still prepping," Kanan said, putting a hand on her shoulder, trying to shore her up a little, "we have time. Should be several hours, yet. We'll warn the refugees and get them out of there. Hera, we're going to need the _Ghost_. You and Zeb go pick it up. Sabine and I will take the _Phantom_ and go back to the camp, sound the alarm, and coordinate the evacuation. Let's get moving."

As one, the four of them carefully backed away from their lookout, sliding back down the hill on the side facing away from the staging area. Just before she and Zeb began their dash for the _Ghost_ , Hera put a hand on Kanan's arm.

"Be careful," she said.

"Hey, when am I not?"

"You want a list?"

"Point taken. Zeb?"

"Don't worry," said the Lasat, sliding his Bo-Rifle off his shoulder to move it into a ready position, "I got her back. Get going!"

With that, the two pairs headed off in opposite directions.

The _Phantom_ was parked about five minutes' walk away from their hiding spot. At their top running speed, Kanan and Sabine made it back there in just over two. Kanan made for the controls and vaulted into the pilot's seat. Sabine braced herself against the seat back, her grip vice-like as they took off.

Kanan kept the _Phantom_ low, hoping not to trip any of the sensors that the cavalry was warming up. That slowed them down a little, since he had to pilot around and over a few obstacles. The trip back took them only about fifteen minutes, but Sabine was silently fidgeting the entire time. The energy of it put Kanan a bit more on edge.

Sabine was out the hatch hardly before they had landed. Kanan wasn't far behind, still hearing the engines wind down.

"Get Pri-Fala," he told Sabine, "I'll start gathering everyone together."

"There's a bell near the central tent we use sometimes," she said, already dashing off in another direction, "use that!"

Kanan didn't bother to respond with an affirmative. He poured on as much speed as he could to the center of the camp, slowing down just enough to take in his surroundings and find the bell.

Calling it a bell was something of a charity, of course. It was metal, vaguely bell-shaped to make some resonance, and had a clapper and a wheel to turn it. But it was clearly cobbled together out of whatever the refugees had had laying about on hand. It squeaked as much as rang. Actually, it more clattered than rang, the raucous and undignified sound of something heavy hitting shaped sheet metal. But if the refugees recognized it and came when called, Kanan didn't give a kriff what it sounded like.

Slowly, one by one and looking bleary and confused at the summons at such an early hour, the refugees poked their heads out of tents and shelters and began to approach.

"What's going on?" a Human woman asked, her arms protectively resting on the shoulders of two children, one of which was rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"We need everyone together, right now!" Kanan shouted.

The woman nodded, then bent down to speak to her children for a moment. They went sprinting off toward one side of the camp while she made in the opposite direction, shaking tents and banging on shelters where there was no movement yet.

Kanan didn't stop turning the bell until Sabine had arrived with Pri-Fala. By then, most if not all of the camp had assembled. The crowd was murmuring with fear and confusion. It sent a shiver up Kanan's spine, the likes of which he hadn't opened himself to for many years.

"Everyone, listen!" Sabine said, taking her helmet off and hopping up on top of a nearby table. "We have an emergency!"

Pri-Fala scrambled up next to her. "Everyone quiet down and listen to Sabine! We haven't much time!"

Finally a tense quiet spread through the crowd.

"The Empire is coming to wipe out this camp," Sabine proclaimed, getting right to the point. There was a communal gasp that went up from the crowd. It was intense and Kanan flinched at it as the new wave of fear hit him. "Everyone needs to get out of here and scatter, as quickly as you can!"

"Why?" shouted a panicked Twi'lek father, holding his young son in his arms. "What have we done to deserve it?"

"Nothing," Sabine said, "none of you have done anything. I'm sorry, but they're coming because of me." She looked away from the crowd, her face growing red with anger and shame. "They're after me."

There was another murmur through the crowd.

Pri-Fala held up his hands to quiet them again. "Now, we all know what Sabine has done for us," he said, "and that alone has earned her our respect. She is not to blame for the Empire's wrath."

"Pri-Fala!" a Rhodian spoke up, stepping forward. "You're right, of course. But whatever it was that she did to call their wrath, surely, it has nothing to do with us. I know it sounds cold, but if we turn her over to them, maybe-"

That was as much as the Rhodian got out before the crowd erupted in a cacophony. Sides were very quickly being taken and a debate was already beginning to wage. Kanan felt the rising ire of both sides and it made his stomach churn. He knew he had to put a stop to it before it spiraled out of control and precious time was wasted. Swallowing his bile and breathing deeply, trying to find some semblance of calm, he stepped forward and stood in front of the table and Sabine and Pri-Fala were on top of, holding up his arms.

"No, no!" he shouted. "That won't work! Listen! Listen! Please!"

With some help from Pri-Fala, the crowd finally turned their attention to him.

"It won't work!" Kanan repeated. "The Empire doesn't care about any of that! They consider you all criminals for aiding and abetting Sabine. They're not going to come here to talk or bargain! They're just going to shoot! You all have to leave, now! While you still can!"

"But how do we get away from the Empire!" a distraught voice shouted from somewhere in the crowd that Kanan couldn't pin down. There were several agreeing exclamations.

"Listen!" Kanan shouted again. "We have a ship on the way. We can use that to take groups of you in various directions and beyond the trooper's scanners. But we can only take about thirty at a time."

Another anxious wave passed through the crowd and it stole Kanan's breath. Luckily, Pri-Fala filled in.

"Everyone! Everyone! We need to organize. The ship will be here within the next half hour and we'll need to start taking people right away. Prepare only that which you cannot leave behind. Quickly now!"

At a gesture from Pri-Fala, the crowd dispersed rapidly, all making for their make-shift homes to gather what they could not bare to part with. The camp became a cacophony of activity as the refugees all began to throw aside unneeded objects and materials in the interest of haste.

"Maybe Tsaro's right," Sabine said as she and Pri-Fala climbed down from the table, "maybe if I hand myself over-"

"No, child, you mustn't," the Cerean objected immediately, "as Kanan said, there's no point in it."

"But Pri-Fala-"

"Sabine, no!" Kanan insisted, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You deserted from the Imperial Academy on Mandalore and I'm betting you had some very good reasons. You know what the Empire is like. It won't matter if you give yourself up to them. They're coming to wipe out these people, either way."

"But it's my fault!" Sabine sobbed. "I brought this down on all of them! I didn't think and now they're paying the price!"

"I know!" said Kanan. "Believe me, I know. But we can't change the Empire in three hours. The best thing you can do now is help to protect these people and get them to safety. Now, I need you to focus. Can you do that?"

Knuckling some moisture out of the corners of her eyes and looking younger than she probably wanted to, Sabine looked back up at him, taking a calming breath and giving a determined nod.

"Good," said Kanan, "now, at the ravine, you had explosives of some kind. Fireworks?"

Sabine gave a nod. "Easy to get a hold of," she said, then gave a faint smile, "and I like the colors."

"We need to set up a welcome for the troopers, in case they get here while we're still getting everyone out," said Kanan, "do you have any more that we can use to hold them off?"

"Yeah, but only about half a crate," she replied.

"We won't be needing the gas-lamps any longer," Pri-Fala offered.

"That can fill in, but we'll still need to make everything count," said Kanan, "c'mon, let's go set up a few surprises for the Empire. Get your fireworks and bring them back here."

"Right," Sabine said with a nod, then she took off.

"I'll gather anything that will burn," said Pri-Fala, heading off in another direction.

With a moment without other people to prop up, Kanan suddenly found his head spinning. Waves of emotion were buffeting him in every direction. The Force was screaming at him, cold swirling all about him and fury, fear, anger, and sorrow blending into a maelstrom of darkness. Kanan felt like he was going to explode.

There was only one thing he could think of to do; something he hadn't fallen back upon for what seemed like a lifetime.

"There is no passion, only serenity," he whispered to himself, desperately, "there is no chaos, only harmony. Passion, but serenity. Chaos, but harmony. Harmony. Serenity."

Somehow, the words brought him some comfort. The tide of the Force ebbed a little, giving Kanan his breath back. Focus returned and his center stilled.

"Okay," he said to himself between breaths, "okay, I got this. I can do this, I got it."

Allowing himself another couple of deep breaths, Kanan finally gathered himself together and set about his work.

* * *

Hera had made four trips away from the camp with the _Ghost_ 's hold full of refugees by the time two hours had passed. The families with children and most of the old and infirm had been evacuated in those first groups. She had undertaken most of the trips alone, Zeb staying at the camp to help set up their delays from the get-go and Chopper staying after the first couple of runs so its sensors could act as lookout.

She had just landed the _Ghost_ at the camp to pick up her fifth run. Kanan and Pri-Fala already had the next group ready to go. Hera stood at the cargo hatch, and began motioning the group in.

"How many more do we have?" she asked as Kanan came near to give an update.

"About sixty or so," Kanan answered.

"One more run after this should do it," said Hera, "any sign of the Empire."

"Not so far," said Kanan, "we might just get out before they get here."

No sooner had those words left his mouth than Chopper met them near the ramp, rolling toward them at top speed on its center wheel and skidding to a halt, all while shouting alarms and chirrups of haste and urgency.

"He says they're coming," Hera translated, "only about thirty minutes out. Kanan, they'll be here when I get back from this run. I won't be able to take another load."

"When am I going to learn to shut up?" Kanan muttered.

Cries of fright moved through the remaining refugees as word of the predicament began to spread. It was only the intervention of Pri-Fala that kept a stampede for the hold from beginning.

"We'll have to pack them in," said Hera, "if some of them sit in the airlock halls, I can take forty-five, but that's all. And it won't be an easy ride."

"Then it's up to me, Zeb, and Sabine to hold them off while the last fifteen run for it," said Kanan.

"I can stay and fight with you," Pri-Fala said, "one more man might make the difference."

"Thanks, but no," said Kanan, "the last group is going to need someone who can lead them away from here, safely. That's you."

With a resigned sigh, the Cerean gave a nod. "I'll ask for volunteers, the fastest and fittest among the last of the people. It'll be our best shot." He turned to see to that, but paused. "This will have to be our parting. I know it is not said very often any more, these days, but... Hera Syndulla, Kanan Jarrus, thank you. Thank you all. And may the Force be with you."

Kanan's spine stiffened a little and Hera placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"And with you, Pri-Fala," she replied for the both of them.

The Cerean gave them both a bow, then hastened on his way, flitting through the crowd and finding his volunteers.

"I better go get Zeb and Sabine ready," said Kanan, "as soon as you have them loaded, go. Chopper, go with her."

Rolling up the cargo ramp, the droid gave a sarcastic series of bleeps, their meaning clear. "Well, duh, I'm not staying in this death-trap."

"I'm not just going to leave you," Hera protested.

"You won't have to," said Kanan, "you can come back one more time. That'll be to pick up the three of us. We'll stall them as long as we can and make our last stand at the camp. Now, get going."

"Kanan!" Hera exclaimed, as he turned to head off. She held on to his hand and pulled him back to her, bringing his head to hers. "This. This is the you I knew was in there. I'm so proud of you."

"Yeah, I am pretty awesome right now, aren't I?" Kanan replied with a smirk. "Is it working?"

"And then you go do that," Hera said, rolling her eyes at him. She pulled his head close to her again and pressed her lips to his. Kanan was a little startled by it, but leaned into it after the moment of initial shock.

And then, just like that, it was done. By the time Kanan had opened his eyes again, Hera had already started pushing her way through the crowd so she could go back up to the _Ghost_ 's cockpit. Kanan was left with a stupefied grin on his face.

"Oh yeah," he said to himself, "definitely working."

* * *

Sabine gazed out over the open expanse that was separating the Imperial cavalry from their position atop the stone crag furthest out from the camp that they had dared to set anything up. Helmet on, sensor down, she watched the approaching dust cloud with apprehension.

Two walkers were silhouetted against the dusty sky. At their feet before them were several speeders. And in front of them, an entire regimen of Stormtroopers on foot, marching with terrifying order.

"That's a lot of Stormtroopers," she said, trying but not really succeeding at keeping the despair from her voice.

In a gesture that held gentleness she hadn't equated with the big Lasat, Zeb's massive paw landed on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring pat.

"Don't worry, kit," he said, "I've seen you work. We got this."

"We can't possibly beat them," Sabine lamented.

"Then it's a good thing we don't have to," Zeb replied, "we just gotta buy time. Though Kanan better get here soon or he'll miss out."

"Aw, Zeb, you _do_ care," Kanan's voice came from behind them. They both turned and found him just climbing the last foot up to their perch.

"Took you long enough," Zeb ground out in response.

Kanan was still wearing that coat, the one that made him look like a Corellian pirate, even though it was hot as blazes. She couldn't fault him, though, she supposed. After all, she was armored head to toe, herself. She was more impressed by the hardware he had slung over his shoulder, though.

"Nice toy you got there," she said as he took up position next to Zeb, "that the sniper rifle you had in the ravine?"

"Yep," Kanan replied, pulling out the bipods and setting it on the ledge of their perch, "figured it might come in handy."

"Sweet," said Sabine.

"Ah, I knew the Mandalorian armor wasn't just for show," Kanan cracked.

"Hey, art is art," said Sabine with a shrug.

"If you two are done comparing weapons," Zeb cut in, letting it trail off into sarcasm.

"Our little surprise party all set to go?" Kanan asked.

"Yup," Sabine replied, turning her attention and her sensors back toward the approaching cavalry, "they should hit position one in about five minutes."

"All right," said Kanan, "that's when all chaos breaks loose. Hera should just be taking off with the last of the refugees right about now. It'll take her a half an hour to make the round trip. We just have to hold out that long."

"Right," Zeb said.

"Got it," Sabine affirmed.

"And hey, Sabine," Kanan added as if in after thought. She looked over to him and found him giving a little bit of a crooked smile, part pride, part kindness, part complete insanity. "Welcome to the team, Specter Five."

In spite of herself and the dire situation, Sabine found her own mouth turning upward in a bit of a smile. She remembered a moment later that she had her helmet on and Kanan and Zeb couldn't see it.

"Specter Five, huh?" she said. "I could probably get used to that."

For his part, Zeb gave a chuckle and cuffed her across the shoulder, affectionately. Almost in unison, they turned back to watch the approaching cavalry.

"Hopefully it won't be for just this one time," she added, ruefully.

No more words passed between the three of them as they watched the troopers approach. As soon as the first line of troopers passed the go mark for the first round of explosives, Sabine readied her triggering device.

"Not yet," said Kanan, soft and low, "wait for one of the walkers. When I give the word, light it up. Zeb and I will start sniping. Speeders first."

Sabine's heart climbed into her throat as the advancing force came closer, all of the troopers on foot passing over the trigger point, followed by the speeders. It seemed like a lifetime before the walkers were finally on top of the explosives.

"Three, two, one," Kanan counted down, slow and even, "now!"

Sabine's thumb came down on the button of the triggering device. At the same moment, both Kanan's rifle and Zeb's Bo-Rifle sounded reports. Beneath the lead walker, the ground opened up, exploding in a blinding flash of green sparks and sending dirt and rock flying in all directions. The walker's left foot was blown off and it wobbled and came down hard. As the troopers on the speeders began to get picked off in the confusion, the ground forces grouped together, trying to find the source of the fire. Sabine triggered another signal and a pair of gas bombs toward the front of the ground-pounders went off, enveloping the scene in black smoke.

They started taking fire at their position, blaster bolts impacting the stone around them and sending sharp bits of rock scattering. They skittered across the metal of her helmet and Sabine was suddenly keenly aware that her companions didn't have the same protection.

"We're not gonna be able to hold this for long," Zeb bit out.

"Wasn't planning on it," said Kanan, "Specter Five, fall back to position two and cover us from above. Specter Four, make for position three while I cover you. Signal when you're in position and then cover my retreat."

"Right," Zeb said, already starting to move.

For her part, Sabine pulled out her twin blasters and took aim at the frenzied group of troopers below. Kicking on her jet pack, she took to the air, firing off some cover shots to join with the ones Kanan was loosing. Some of the blaster fire followed her, but she was able to weave and dodge enough to keep any of the shots from landing home.

She came to rest high on top of one of the stone spires that had been the meager shelter for the refugee camp and dropped low, training her blasters on the troopers below and letting off round after round.

"This is Specter Five, I'm in position," she said into the comm in her helmet.

"Good for you!" Zeb's voice answered. "Gonna have to give me a sec!"

The second walker was coming around, having finally regained its equilibrium after the explosions. It brought its cannons around, aiming for Kanan's position.

"Now would be a good time, Specter Four," Kanan's voice sounded.

"Go, Specter One," Zeb snapped back, "get out of there!"

The HUD in her helmet told Sabine that Zeb wasn't quite at position three, yet. But Kanan was out of time. She redoubled her blaster fire to try to make up for the lack of Zeb's cover, seeing Kanan duck around what remained of the stone that made up position one at the very last second. The walker's blaster fire slammed into the rock, blasting it apart, sending Kanan rolling with the blast.

Zeb's fire joined in at last. Not having seen that Kanan had gotten away from position one, the second walker fired off another couple of shots at the broken stone there.

"Specter Five, fall back to position three," Kanan ordered, around breath puffing with exertion, "and make that walker go away, please!"

"On it, Specter One," Sabine replied. She fired off a few more blasts from her guns, then holstered one and readied another trigger mechanism.

The walker, now satisfied that it had obliterated its first target, took a few steps in toward the camp, re-positioning to take aim at Sabine's location. Still firing with one blaster, she waited.

"Specter Five!" Zeb's voice sounded.

"I got this, just trust me," she shouted back.

The walker's cannons found their position just as it landed on the spot that Sabine was looking for. Kicking off of the spire, she activated her jetpack and triggered her next explosion just as the walker's fire slammed into the stone and exploded it. The base of the spire did likewise, opening a space on one side in a spray of red sparks, sending the whole thing toppling right into the second walker, the mechanical beast went down with the impact, stone crushing its cockpit.

Sabine looped out of the troopers' line of fire, around the next spire over, then pressed another button. The base of that one, too, exploded outward with a flash of blue, cutting off the troopers from their line of forward advance. As the dust settled, she lighted on the ground next to Zeb and Kanan at position three.

"Remind me not to piss you off," Zeb said to her as she landed.

As dust and smoke swirled among the stone spires, the blaster fire let up for a moment.

"Good job, you two," Kanan said, "we'll be able to hold out here longer with with those walkers out of commission."

"Yeah, but they'll just go around the roadblock," Sabine pointed out.

Zeb gave a slightly manic chuckle. "Yeah. Right through our little gauntlet."

"Specter Five, as soon as you see the white of their armor round the corner, set off the next set of gas bombs," said Kanan, "the smoke will slow them down."

"You got it," said Sabine.

The air was a tense silence for almost two minutes. Shouting from the other side of the second downed spire told them that the troopers were scrambling to reorganize. Sabine hardly dared to blink, waiting for the first of the troopers to come into view at the other end of the gauntlet. Kanan and Zeb also seemed like they were hardly breathing.

"There! Now!" Kanan snapped, suddenly. Both he and Zeb resumed their blaster fire and Sabine pressed her trigger.

Two gas bombs, one on each side of the gauntlet, blew in explosive balls of black smoke. A few shots of answering blaster fire came their general direction, but went wild, the trooper's line of fire hampered by the thick smoke.

"What's left of the speeders will come through first," said Kanan, "hold your fire until you have clear shots at them."

Before she had a chance to ask him how he knew that, the buzzing of speeder engines began to roar up the gauntlet toward them. Sabine readied her blasters and took aim near the edge of the smoke, watching for movement.

A line of three speeders burst out of the smoke all at once. Kanan, Zeb, and Sabine fired shots off at them as soon as they had their targets. One speeder exploded when Zeb's fire caught the engine. A second careened sideways from the blast, sending it into the base of one of the stone spires. Kanan's fire grazed the side of the third, sending it spinning out of control for a moment before it, too, went up in flames.

A second wave of speeders was hot on their heels, however, and used their compatriots' misfortune as cover to close distance. They were firing shots at the Specters' position, sending up more dust and rock.

"Give us another big boom, Specter Five," said Kanan, "we got these."

Sabine was already triggering the next explosion before she realized that the ground-pounders were still no where in sight. But when the line of three fireworks went off, the sound of troopers screaming in fright and scattering reached her ears, a small part of her wondered how Kanan had known. Not one to look a gift taun-taun in the mouth, though, she set the thought aside and returned to her blasters to find that Kanan and Zeb had picked off the last of the speeders.

"Now we eat up the clock," said Kanan, "lay down some fire into the smoke. Make 'em think twice about coming at us."

Blaster fire pinged the stone around them, but they remained relatively safe under the cover of smoke and dust. If any of them caught sight of a trooper in the smoke, they took a pot-shot at them. Several went down that way. The rest of their time was spent firing off covering shots to keep the troopers at bay. This went on for about five minutes, until the fog of war began to clear in earnest and the troopers' fire picked up.

"Uh, do you guys see what I see?" Zeb asked with dread.

Sabine quickly scanned the troopers below and picked out two sets of two, each toting a large tube which they were angling their direction.

"Grenade launchers!" Sabine shouted.

"Oh kriff!" Kanan spat. "So much for the gauntlet. Fall back to position four!"

"But it's too soon!" Zeb said.

"No choice! Move!"

All three of them were in motion, sliding down the back side of their perch.

"Got us covered," said Sabine, pressing down on another trigger device. A line of four gas bombs went off in quick succession, making a line of craters between the troopers and the retreating specters. A moment after they reached the ground, their perch exploded into shards of stone, completely obliterated by grenade blasts. As they ran for their next cover, the three Specters fired wild shots behind them into the new batch of smoke.

" _Ghost_ to Specter One," Hera's voice came over the com, "I've delivered my payload and I'm heading back to you. You hanging in?"

"We've had to advance our timetable a bit, _Ghost_!" Kanan answered. "Would appreciate some haste!"

"I think I can manage some fancy flying, Spector One," said Hera, "just stay alive for ten more minutes."

"Not planning on dying!" Zeb replied, testily.

As they ran for position four, Sabine reflected that dying usually wasn't a part of the plan.

* * *

As blaster bolts ate away at their cover at position four, Kanan wished they had been able to find somewhere to set up a second gauntlet. In the end, it was Sabine's fireworks that bought them the most time there, but they were only able to hold out for about three minutes.

There was only one more stop for them. Position five was behind a make-shift barricade they had hastily constructed out of the remains of the refugee camp. Somehow, they had to hold out there for seven minutes. Needless to say, it didn't look good.

Kanan was more exhausted than he had been in a very long time. Between the fight and the throbbing cacophony of the Force pounding on his soul, he was being pushed farther than he remembered ever having been pushed before. Not even the battles he had been in during the Clone Wars were this taxing.

Well, except for maybe the last one.

Pushing those thoughts aside before they could spiral out of control, Kanan focused on the here and now. Sabine was on one side of him, her twin blasters firing rapidly over the barricade. Zeb was on his other side, firing off blast after blast from his Bo-Rifle. The charge in Kanan's own rifle was almost depleted. Soon, he would have to switch to his blaster pistol which just didn't have the range of the rifle.

Sabine paused her blaster fire long enough to set off another set of fireworks, blue and purple cinders flying into the air, explosively disturbing the ground.

"How many more of those do you have?" Kanan asked her.

"Only one," she replied, "and one more gas bomb, but it's almost on top of us."

"Keep them in reserve," Kanan ordered, ducking away from a shower of sparks as a blaster bolt struck the barricade just a little too close for comfort. "They'll be our only cover if we end up having to run for it."

"We should spread out a little," Zeb suggested, "we might be able to set up a kill pocket if we're on different parts of the barricade."

"Good idea," Kanan agreed, "I'll hold the center, you two spread out."

Ducking below the barricade, Zeb broke right and Sabine went left. Kanan's rifle chose that moment to run out of juice. Tossing it aside with one hand and drawing his pistol with the other, he loosed shot after shot at the wall of approaching troopers. He spotted a small object fly through the air from Sabine's direction, little lights blinking as it arced toward the troopers. It disappeared into their midst and blew a moment later, sending a few troopers flying.

"How many of those you got, Specter Five?" he asked.

"Just three more," Sabine replied.

"Okay, use them wisely," said Kanan, "wait until you have groups to target."

"Yes, thank you," Sabine replied with testy sarcasm, "that is how they generally work best."

Kanan let that slide. They were all tired and more than a little scared.

Spread out along the barricade, they were able to flank the troopers a little. The advancing soldiers turned their line outward, opening up some holes in the line. Kanan started taking shots at the troopers who were busy targeting Zeb or Sabine and hoped that the two of them covered him similarly.

"Specter One to _Ghost_ ," Kanan said into the comm, "we're at our last stand. How far out are you?"

"Three minutes," Hera answered, "and I'm coming in loud."

"What do you mean, loud?"

"I mean sonic boom. I'm on a parabolic trajectory to your location to gain some speed. Be ready for a rattle."

Sabine chose that moment to let off another of her grenades. It was close and Kanan felt the barricade shake beneath him.

"Nothing new there," he replied to Hera.

"Specter One! I see more grenade launchers, toward the back!" Zeb shouted.

"Target them, now!" Kanan snapped. "Specter Five?"

"On it!" Sabine replied.

The last two of Sabine's little toys arced through the air, high so that they would travel far. Zeb's fire moved toward the back of the troopers, so Kanan redoubled his efforts on the front line. There were a couple of loud blasts as Sabine's grenades went off, triggering a set of aftershocks as the troopers' grenade launchers also went up.

He was vaguely aware that Sabine had shouted a warning into the comm that those were her last grenades. But he had settled into something of a trance state and didn't feel the need to reply. What was there to do about it, anyway? He noticed then that he wasn't actually aiming with his eyes. In fact, they had closed. It was as if something had taken control of his gun and was dragging his arm around with it, firing off shots that unerringly hit home.

The Force was glowing all around him, red and cold in front of him. He could sense Zeb and Sabine to either side, their energy fading. But as shot after shot of his hit their marks, voices echoed to him from across the expanse that separated them. Warm, white light flared in each of their hearts.

Hope?

Something flashed, sharp and piercing in warning, like lightning. He had to move. No. He had to get to Sabine, to make her move. Malice was pointing at her, evil and deadly in its resolve. She was unaware.

He knew he was shouting her name as he sprinted in her direction, the Force adding power to his steps. She didn't react until he made made contact with her, shoving her away from the barricade. They were both flying through the air, now; Sabine to land on her back several yards away and Kanan pin-balling into the space she had been occupying.

The barricade exploded next to him. The burst of energy in the Force was as shocking as the explosion itself. Hot metal shards went flying through the air. Something white-hot and painful struck him in his right side, boring into him like a blaster bolt, sending a jolt of agony rippling throughout his body. The Force retreated as he felt himself land hard on the ground, rolling to a stop.

He knew he should move. But he just didn't have the energy left.

* * *

Sabine's ears were ringing and landing on the ground hard had stunned her for a moment. She wasn't really sure what had just happened. One moment, she was firing away at the troopers and the next, she heard Kanan shouting her name and then she was flying backward, away from the barricade.

When her senses cleared, she saw a gaping hole in the barricade where she had been only moments before, smoke swirling in the now empty space. And in a direct line between her and that space was a crumpled, prone figure unmoving on the ground, tan coat splayed over the ground in disarray.

"Kanan!" she exclaimed, pushing herself up and scrambling over to him. Blaster fire was starting to come through the hole in the barricade and she had to dodge it. But she was able to grab Kanan under his arms and pull him back behind the barricade, toward the center once more. She was relieved to hear a groan from him, but when they got safely behind cover, a new horror greeted her eyes.

A jagged, smoking piece of metal the size of her fist was sticking out of his side, having ripped a smoldering hole through his coat. Blood was beginning to well up around it.

Apparently, the jostling had made Kanan return to his senses. Blindly, he reached for the source of the pain and gave a shout of agony when his hand came into contact with the metal.

"Oh, no!" Sabine gasped out, hardly able to find the breath to speak. "Specter One is down! I repeat, Specter One is down!"

"Kriffing karabast!" Zeb exclaimed. "Hold tight, Specter Five, I'm coming to you! _Ghost_ , where are you!?"

"One more minute, Specter Four!" Hera answered.

"We don't _have_ a minute!" Zeb snapped back.

Sabine saw the Lasat bounding their direction over the ground, firing off wild shots over the barricade as he went. He stooped down next to Kanan just long enough to grab Kanan's pistol to use in his off hand.

"We have to get out of here before they start coming through!" he shouted to her. "I'll get Specter One, you cover us!"

"Right!" Sabine said, immediately switching places with Zeb. The troopers were closer than she liked, some of them making for the opening in the barricade. She focused her fire on them, keeping them from getting there.

Deciding that it was most definitely last resort time, Sabine pulled out her final trigger device and clamped down on the button. The last gas bomb and round of fireworks went off, sending a shock-wave through the area, rattling the barricade. The blaster fire paused for a moment as there was disarray in the troopers' line.

"C'mon, kit!" Zeb shouted. "Let's move!"

Sabine backed away from the barrier, her back to Zeb. The Lasat had Kanan slung over one shoulder, groaning and screaming in agony as he was jostled about. He had Kanan's pistol in his free hand, his Bo-Rifle slung on his back. The two of them backed away from the opening of the barricade and toward the cover of one of the other stone spires, shooting at anything that appeared around or over the barrier.

" _Ghost_!?" Zeb pleaded again.

"Incoming!" Hera shouted back. "Hold on to your socks and brace yourselves!"

Somewhere high above them, a crack like thunder rolled, shaking the entire ground. Zeb and Sabine ducked down on instinct as the _Ghost_ came roaring over head, firing blasters and buzzing the scene at break-neck speed. The blaster bolts landed in the midst of the troopers, sending them scattering. The rest were knocked off their feet by the gale-force gust that followed.

"I don't think I've ever seen a ship that beautiful!" Sabine exclaimed as she and Zeb regained their feet.

The _Ghost_ looped back around at a more controlled speed, firing her forward guns, covering the Specters' position. Hera brought her in to hover just behind Zeb and Sabine, the cargo ramp falling open. Zeb and Sabine retreated into it, still firing at anything that moved as they went.

"We're in!" Zeb shouted.

That was all the notice that Hera needed. The ship was lifting back into the air again, the cargo hatch closing. Hera brought the _Ghost_ about and shot off toward space.

* * *

The moment the swirling blue of hyperspace enveloped the ship, Hera was leaping out of the pilot's seat and running aft.

"Chopper keep an eye on things!" she shouted back at the droid as she made her way back down to the cargo hold where the others were. It trilled an affirmative in response.

Kanan had gotten worse in the time it took Hera to get the ship into hyperspace. By the time she got back to the cargo hold, blood was covering his entire right side. He was still crying out in pain and now Zeb and Sabine were actively holding down his arms and legs. His eyes drunkenly wandered from face to face and back again, his skin beginning to turn grey.

"Karabast, Kanan!" Zeb exclaimed. "Work with us, here!"

"What's happening?" Hera snapped out, racing over and skidding to a halt on her knees nearby.

"I think he's in shock," Sabine said, "I don't think he's really with us, at the moment!"

"Stance!" Kanan shouted, his eyes settling on something about a million miles away. "They're flanking! We gotta get in front of them!"

"What's he talking about?" Zeb asked, half shouting.

"I dunno," said Hera, trying to get at the wound in Kanan's side, "but we gotta get that shrapnel out of him and get him patched up! Hold him as steady as you can!" As soon as Hera's hands made contact with the piece of shrapnel, Kanan cried out and bucked under them again. The deck of the ship shuttered under them at the same moment, rattling every joint nearby.

Hera, Zeb, and Sabine all rocked on their knees with the shake.

"What was that?" Sabine asked in alarm.

"Some kind of hyperspace turbulence?" Zeb asked.

Hera still had her hands near the shrapnel in Kanan's side, trying to get purchase on it and on Kanan's bloody wound, trying to find the best way to remove it without doing any more damage. Kanan's struggles caused her to torque it and he cried out again. There was another, stronger shudder around them and something on the main deck fell and hit the floor.

And with a sinking feeling, Hera suddenly realized what had happened.

"Oh, no, no, no," she breathed, abandoning her efforts on the shrapnel to move to Kanan's head, trying to get his attention on her. "Kanan, listen! You need to calm down!"

"He killed Stance!" Kanan shouted, eyes focusing somewhere beyond Hera. "Lemme go! Get off me!" He jerked again and Zeb lost hold on one of his shoulders for a moment. When the Lasat got hold of him again and pushed him back to the deck, the ship gave another shudder, stronger, sending a cargo crate toppling from a stack in the corner.

"Hera, what's happening?!" Sabine exclaimed.

"Kanan!" Hera called again.

Kanan's eyes snapped toward her, meeting her gaze, his eyes filled with terror, pain, and confusion.

"Get off!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

And then, a shock wave moved through the entire ship, throwing Hera, Zeb, and Sabine in opposite directions, flying into the walls of the cargo bay. Equipment and cargo went scattering to the edges of the hold. As Hera slammed back down to the deck, she found she had to cover her head as various objects came clattering down.

And then everything was silent. Kanan had stopped crying out and the shuddering had stopped.

Hera looked up again, across the deck to where Kanan was laying. He was completely still, his eyes closed and his grey face slack.

"Kanan!" she exclaimed, scrambling across the deck to him and pressing her fingers to the side of his neck. She felt a quickly fluttering pulse beneath it. Her eyes darted to the wound and she noted that the shrapnel was gone, leaving behind a large rip in Kanan's shirt and blood welling up freely from the wound. She moved her hands to it and pushed, trying to keep pressure on it.

"Whoa!" she heard Sabine breathe.

"Wait," Zeb said, "is he a-?"

"Don't tell anyone!" Hera snapped, whipping her head around to look at him.

Shock on their faces, Zeb and Sabine approached cautiously, tentatively, staring down at Kanan and Hera but momentarily keeping a distance. For a moment, they exchanged glances, then looked back to Hera again.

"Don't just stand there!" Hera shouted. "I need help, here!"

That galvanized the two of them back into action. Scrambling around the room, they gathered up the medical supplies that had scattered. Zeb was the first to return, getting back on his knees next to Hera and beginning to cut away what remained of Kanan's shirt.

"Where the yotz did the shrapnel go?" he asked.

"Over there," Sabine said, joining them on Kanan's other side, cracking open a container of bacta and an auto-suture. She indicated with a nod of her head a spot somewhere behind her. "Embedded in a bulkhead." Clearly she hadn't quite recovered from the revelation.

"Karabast," Zeb murmured.

"Hey! I know you two have questions," Hera said, "but I need you to focus or we're going to lose him!"

"Right, right," Zeb said, his attention snapping back to the matter at hand, "keep the pressure on, Hera, and I'll clean and suture the wound. Sabine, get some bacta on it, then we're going to need an antibiotic."

"Right," Sabine said, getting to work as well.

After that, there was no more extraneous conversation between them as they went about their jobs, hoping to save their friend.


	5. Chapter Four

Hera parked the _Ghost_ on the surface of a nameless moon of some un-designated gas-giant in an uninhabited double-star system. She wanted them to lay low, after everything that had happened on Ord Mantell. Partly because of the chance that the Imperial troopers had identified the ship, but mostly because she just wanted the privacy. No one was around for parsecs and it was very unlikely anyone would be going that way any time soon.

Quiet and rest; that was what they needed, now. Especially Kanan.

Hera finished setting up a saline drip, hanging the bag from the upper bunk in Kanan's cabin, then crouched down next to him to make sure the nano-IV on his wrist was still secure. Still unconscious, Kanan gave a soft whimper and shifted at the contact. She rested a hand on his forehead, finding it to be distressingly warm. His brow furrowing a little, he leaned toward the touch, giving a louder sound of protest.

He did not look good. He had never really regained his color, with the exception of the blotches of red on his cheeks from the fever he was developing. Carefully pulling back the loose sleep shirt that they had put on him after Zeb had cleaned and sutured the wound, Hera gently loosened the bandage there and looked under it. The wound was angry and red and there were ugly red streaks emanating from it. She cleaned the wound again and then changed the bandage. Then, pulling a small syringe from the medical kit, she inserted it into the IV bag and pressed the plunger home.

Kanan shifted again, his breath hitching before letting out a soft cry of pain.

"Shhh," she whispered, gently running a hand along his cheek, "just sleep, love."

The touch seemed to calm him a bit and he settled deeper into his pillow. Hera replaced the blanket that had been covering him and then stood up, looking down at him in worry one moment longer before quietly heading for the open door to his cabin.

When she returned to the common room, both Zeb and Sabine looked up at her, anxious.

"Any change?" Sabine asked.

"His fever is climbing," Hera said, lighting on the comfy wicker chair that was set in the corner, curling her legs up under her, "the wound is definitely infected. I just gave him one of the other antibiotics we have. Hopefully, that will knock it back."

Sitting on the bench of the booth by the dejarik table, Sabine pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. The poor girl looked absolutely stricken with guilt. Hera's heart went out to her, but she sensed that it was perhaps too soon to address it.

"Karabast," Zeb muttered, "it's been more than a day. He can't keep going like this, Hera. He needs a doctor."

"Zeb, we can't," Hera said, sorrowfully, shaking her head, "anyplace we would bring him for medical attention would have Imperial ties. And if the Empire gets a hold of him, they'll kill him... or worse."

"Because he's a Jedi?" Sabine asked, tentatively, sounding guilty for even saying the word aloud. Hera looked over at her with uncertainty. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Hera closed her eyes and looked away. She had hoped that Kanan would be awake before this issue was pressed. But Sabine and Zeb were nobody's fools. She knew that they had both figured it out the moment Kanan had sent them all flying into the bulkheads. So Hera did the only thing she could do.

"Yes," she answered reluctantly.

"By Ashla!" Zeb breathed, leaning on the dejarik table and contemplating its surface. "I knew there was something... different about him, but... a Jedi... It explains a lot, actually."

"I didn't think any Jedi had survived," Sabine said with wonder, "is he... the last?"

"I don't know," Hera said, shaking her head and looking to the floor, "and I don't think that he knows, either. If there are any others, they're probably doing the same thing he's done; keep his head down, keep moving, don't tell anyone. So there's no way to know."

"He couldn't have been very old when the purge happened," Zeb mused.

"I wish I could go into more detail," Hera said with regret, "but you have to understand; I don't have the right. This is his story and as far as I know, I'm the only one he's ever told any of it."

The common room lapsed into a contemplative silence.

"What if we keep him unconscious?" Zeb asked. "All that shaking stopped as soon as he passed out. We could take him to a doc and just not mention it."

"It doesn't work that way, Zeb," said Sabine, "for one thing, I doubt they'd let us leave with him before he regains consciousness. And for another... blood tests, reflex tests... those are some of the ways the Empire identifies Force-sensitive children. They'd figure it out for sure."

"You seem to know an awful lot about it," Zeb said, looking over at her.

Sabine gave a sigh. "You know that I deserted the Academy on Mandalore," she said, "given all of this, I suppose you deserve to know a bit about why." She hesitated a little, shifting in her seat, forcing herself to take a more open pose and face them more resolutely. "I'm not proud to say it, but I was one of those people who just went along. I mean, I was pretty young when Emperor Palpatine shut down the Republic and founded the Empire, but I do have a few memories of it. But, for me, nothing really changed all that much. I was just a little kid, after all, I didn't really understand. And then, I grew up with all the Imperial propaganda all around me and it was just... normal.

"So, when I decided I wanted to be a pilot, I joined the Academy and didn't think anything of it. And everything was great for a while, but... then I started hearing things, rumors. Every once in a while a cadet would just disappear and no one would ever hear from them again. And, as I went on more and more training missions, I started to see how the Imperial forces really treat people. It was brutal.

"And then, one day, there was this shuttle on the landing pad. I was just heading inside when I saw it. There was a whole group of Stormtroopers surrounding a family of four. The kids were so young, just babes-in-arms, really. And there was this... Mirialan, dressed all in black. I didn't hear what she said to them, but the mother and father looked terrified. And then they were all marched onto the shuttle under heavy guard.

"It got me wondering what they could have done. So I poked around. That was when I found a file, buried deep in the system. I hacked through three layers of security just to find out it was there. It was about the family, medical reports mostly. They looked normal until I got to the younger child's. It said... 'Child of the Force... Terminated.' And that was when I thought that maybe, if I had just _asked_... if I had just _said_ something... That night, I left the Academy and never looked back."

There was a heavy silence in the room. Hera wasn't sure what to say. Sabine had seen something horrifying. Hera knew that the Empire was guilty of some horrible crimes. But she had known that since she was a child. To have it dropped down upon you like Sabine had had... she couldn't imagine.

"That was why the Empire were so eager to catch you on Ord Mantell," Zeb said with realization, "because you found out about their secret little genocide."

"And they couldn't say that it was because you had found information because then people would ask what information that was," said Hera. And then a thought occurred to her. She rose and went over to sit in the booth, next to Sabine, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Sabine, do you have that file? Do you have proof that the Empire is doing this?"

"I copied it to a disk when I found it," Sabine said, sadly, "but I got in a firefight when I was trying to leave Mandalore. It... got destroyed." She dropped her head into her hands. "I couldn't even manage to get out with proof."

"It wasn't your fault, Sabine," Hera told her, "the Empire is ruthless and you were completely alone. But you don't have to be alone any more."

"Yeah, kit," Zeb said, sliding closer to her and setting a hand on her other shoulder, "we've all got our demons. Far as I'm concerned, you're with us, now."

Sabine looked up to Hera, a conviction as bright as fire in her eyes. "Kanan doesn't have to worry about me," she said, "I'll keep his secret. I don't ever want to let that happen to anyone ever again."

Hera couldn't stand it any longer. The girl needed a place of warmth. She was just too young to be in such a fight alone. Hera pulled her close and was happy that Sabine didn't resist. In fact, she turned and latched on to Hera as well. A moment later, Zeb came in closer and put both of his arms around them both.

* * *

Caleb Dume slogged through a knee-deep swamp, mud sucking at his feet with every step, pulling him back, making his limbs tight with exhaustion. The trees above were thick, blocking out any sign of the sky. Gases rose in drifting miasmas on all sides. The swamp seemed to go on forever and he began to think that he would never again see daylight.

Was he going around in circles? He couldn't tell. Honestly, he wasn't sure that it would matter if he was.

"Going somewhere, you are, young Padawan?"

He knew that voice. It drifted on the swamp gases around him, echoed through the trees. It brought Caleb to a halt and he looked around, but there was no source to the voice.

"Lost, you seem, I think."

"Where are you?" Caleb shouted to the empty swamp.

"Where are _you_ , the question is."

"I... I don't know. I want to go home. But I can't find it."

The voice gave a hum as if in thought and a wisp of vapor swirled up around Caleb.

"But moving, you are not," said the voice, "why stop you, if home you wish to go?"

"Well, I... I stopped to talk to you," Caleb replied in a confused voice, "it would be rude to just pass by."

"Pass? Pass where?"

Caleb looked around again, at the trees, the gases, the water thick with grime and flotsam. But try as he might, he could see no one. "Well, wherever you are," he finally answered with some uncertainty.

"How know you that passed me you have not, hmm?"

"I don't understand."

"Ah, the best place to start, that is."

"I... I just want to go home. Please, which way do I go?"

The swamp gases stirred, spinning around him and surrounding him in a wall of fog. He reached out, trying to break through it, but there was nothing for his hands to find.

"Oh, so now you're concerned with what direction you're going," another voice said, a woman. The swamp gases turned green and a silhouette appeared in their midst, shaking her head, twin tendrils waving back and forth from behind as she did. "I've been trying to get you to come home for this long and _now_ you wish to know a direction? I've been _telling_ you the direction. You just didn't want to listen."

"I... I'm sorry, all right? Please, just tell me where to go."

"The place ain't important," said a third voice, gruff and deep. The mists around Caleb swirled from green to purple, "not if you find the path and stick to it."

Caleb was beginning to feel desperate, both of his hands going to the sides of his head and running through his hair. "But where's the path!?" he shouted.

"Did you bother to look behind you?" came still another voice as the mists shifted to a bright pink. "I mean, you were on the path before, right? Why not go back?"

"I can't go back! I'll die! And too I'm afraid!"

"So, what?" the second voice asked, fading out of the mists again. "You're just going to run in circles? _That's_ real productive."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Caleb shouted, not even sure which way he should be shouting.

"Hey, you walked in on us," said the third voice, the deep one, "don't blame us for you getting lost."

Ire rose in Caleb. He lashed out at the wisps curling all around him, trying to beat them away. "Well, if you're not going to help, then just leave me alone!"

"Us leave," the fourth voice came in again, "that's rich. You're the one doing the walking."

"Or, perhaps, falling it is," the first voice said.

As if blown away on a sudden wind, the mists departed. And then the swamp waters were rising all around him. No, no that wasn't right. He was sinking. Desperately, he tried to move his feet, but he found them completely stuck in the thick mud. Caleb scrambled around, looking for something, anything he could use to pull himself up. But there was nothing. And as he cried out in terror, the dark swamp water engulfed him.

* * *

She figured the least she could do was make herself useful. The cargo hold was a mess. There wasn't a single crate that was in its proper location and most of them weren't even in their proper orientation. Tools were scattered everywhere and a couple of lights had been blown out. And, of course, there was a jagged piece of bloody scrap metal stuck in a bulkhead and patch of dried-up blood on the floor.

It was the last that Sabine was currently tending to. She wasn't particularly surprised that the _Ghost_ didn't have any cleaner droids. Hera didn't really seem the type. But it would have been nice to have one for this. Because moping it meant she had to look at it. And their worry for Kanan had made them neglect it for 36 hours, which was just enough time to make it stubborn.

Sabine was on her fourth pass with the mop when Hera climbed down the ladder into the cargo hold.

"I was just talking about cleaning this place up when Chopper told me that you were way ahead of me," she said.

"I found the bucket and mop in the storage in the 'fresher," Sabine replied, "I hope you don't mind I went poking around. I just thought maybe I should help."

"That's just fine, I appreciate the help," Hera replied, "since you've got that, I'll start in on the crates and get them sorted out."

Sabine went back to scrubbing, leaving Hera to start going through the scattered objects in the room.

"So... has he ever... done anything like this before...?" Sabine asked after a few moments of silence.

"Make a complete mess of my cargo hold?" Hera replied. "Just once, when he'd had a little too much Corellian whiskey. He learned better real quick."

Sabine gave a laugh. "That makes sense," she said, "but... I really meant... has he ever... you know, risked using his powers like that before? To save someone he barely knew?"

Hera paused what she was doing with a wistful smile on her face. She turned back around and leaned against the nearest crate.

"Only once that I know of," she said, "when we first met, he pushed me out of the way of an explosion. But to get to me in time, he had to make a path. You can imagine what I thought when I saw everything that was between me and him suddenly jump to the side. Especially since there wasn't any indication yet that I could see that anything was going to go wrong."

"So... I was only the second in, what? Five years?"

Hera gave a nod.

Sabine stopped scrubbing the deck and leaned against the mop handle. "I don't get it," she said, "with everything you guys do, it seems like there would have been plenty of others he could have done the same for. What's so special about me?"

"I asked myself the same thing, at the time," Hera replied, "but then he stayed on with me and I got to know him better. And, I figured out that he didn't really know. It was, quite literally, a leap of faith."

"He doesn't exactly seem like the faithful type," said Sabine, "I actually thought he was a really big jerk."

"Oh, he's not, and he can be," Hera replied, wryly, "don't give him too much credit."

Sabine laughed again, amazed at Hera's easy demeanor. She was clearly very fond of Kanan. Sabine had to admit that if she was confronted with the person responsible for her significant other's serious injury, she wouldn't be so light on them.

"Oh, I know that look," said Hera, "and you can get that thought out of your head right now."

Sabine's attention snapped back to Hera for a moment and she felt her face get a little warm. She went back to scrubbing at the deck with gusto. "I don't know what you mean," she said in a tone of voice that no one in the galaxy would believe.

"C'mon, Sabine," said Hera, "if I can crack Kanan Jarrus, I can figure you out, no problem. What happened to Kanan on Ord Mantell was not your fault. And if he was awake, he'd be the first to tell you that."

Sabine didn't really have anything to say in reply to that. She slid her eyes away from the Twi'lek and went back to cleaning the deck. Hera gave a sigh and a shrug, turning back to the crate that she was leaning against.

"Well, if you really feel the need to make apologies to him when he wakes up, I won't stop you," said Hera, "just don't say I didn't warn you about the sarcastic reply. So, what are you plans now?"

Sabine was surprised by the question. If she was being honest, she hadn't really thought about it. Fleeing Ord Mantell on the _Ghost_ had seemed completely natural, just like breathing. And the single night's sleep she had gotten in the little cabin they had let her use had been just about the deepest, most restful sleep she had gotten in a while. She barely knew these people and yet, she felt like she could trust them completely.

"I just realized, I hadn't thought about it," she admitted, "which is weird. I've sort of always thought about my next move, ever since I left Mandalore."

"Well, we're going to be here a few days," Hera replied, activating the anti-grav on one of the crates, pushing it across the hold back into its rightful position, "why don't you keep an open mind." She gave Sabine an odd little wink, then went back to pushing around more of the crates.

Sabine went back to scrubbing the floor, thoughtfully. "Yeah," she said, "I think I will."

* * *

Kanan floated. Everything was warm and soft and quiet, like being wrapped all in fluff. A shining silver-grey was all around him. It was comfortable, but it wasn't quite... right.

He was trying to get home. This wasn't home.

But all around him was blank, soft grey, no matter which way he looked.

"Emotion, yet peace."

It was a very familiar voice and yet one he had not heard in a very long time.

"Master," he whispered.

"Hello, my strategist," Depa's voice came from right over his shoulder, "how did you end up here?"

"I'm not sure, Master," Kanan said, turning to look at her. But there was still only grey, "I... I was falling."

"I'd noticed," said Depa, still sounding like she was just behind him, "who do you think caught you?"

"You brought me here?"

"No, I only caught you," Depa replied, "you brought yourself here. Though, I'm not certain why. This isn't the way home. Why did you leave the path?"

"I lost it," Kanan replied, feeling ashamed.

"Well, I suppose that's easy to do when it gets dark," she said, "but, why not light a lamp?"

Kanan searched himself, inside his coat, in pockets, on his back, anywhere something might be kept. "I don't have one, Master."

"Sure you do," Depa said, sounding slightly amused, "passion, yet serenity. Do you remember?"

"I... of course I remember the Jedi code, Master," Kanan said, reeling from the change in subject.

"Not the words," Depa said dismissively, "the words themselves are not the code. Look deeper. I know you want to. You always want to look deeper."

Kanan was confused. What was he supposed to look at deeper? And then he realized that the subject hadn't changed at all.

"There is no passion, only serenity," he said.

"Deeper still, my strategist," Depa coaxed, "I know that you remember."

Kanan thought back, conversations with his master filtering through his mind in an instant and an eternity all at the same time. And then he found it.

"Passion," he said, "yet serenity."

The grey around him began to shimmer, fading closer to light. In his hand, he found now a lantern, glowing warm, clean, and white.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Ah!" said Depa, "ignorance, yet knowledge! I told you you had a lamp."

"But... I don't need it, here," Kanan said, "it's light enough here I can see."

"Can you? And what do you see?"

Kanan looked around again, but still there was nothing but the shimmering grey. "Well... nothing."

"If you see nothing, how is it that you can see clearly?"

"But there's nothing to see."

"Then how do you know you can see?"

"Well, I," Kanan stumbled over his words, trying to unravel the conundrum, "I don't know, Master."

"Do you want to find out?"

"Of course."

"Then take your lamp and go where there is not nothing. Find your path again and go home."

"But, how can I find the path?"

"The others already told you," said Depa, "you left it behind you."

"I can't go there!" Kanan protested. "I can't go back!"

"Why not?"

"It's too dark. I'm... I'm afraid."

Gentle hands rested on his shoulders, warm and comforting. Depa's voice was right in his ear, now. "Don't overthink it. Turn round and look behind you."

His grip tightening on his lantern, Kanan took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and looked behind him. When he opened his eyes, his master was smiling at him, a fond, amused smile. "My silly boy," she said, "you _have a lamp_."

She stood aside and gestured ahead, revealing a patch in the grey, fading around the edges, as if a hole in a cloud. Beyond it, dark, overgrown, but visible, was a path through a woods.

"And what is darkness when you have a lamp?" Depa asked.

"Nothing," Kanan whispered with realization.

Voices called out to him from the path, calling his name as if searching for him. Four of them he knew. Hera, the strongest, loudest voice, nearly desperate to find him. Zeb, worried, but still friendly and warm. Sabine, sounding uncertain, as if she did not know him. And one more, a young boy calling out as if to ask if he even exists.

"Who are they, Master?" Kanan asked.

"Companions," Depa answered, "they have lamps, as well. All dark paths are brighter when you are not alone. They can help you find your way back."

"Back to where?"

"Home."

"But the Temple is gone," Kanan said, "I can't go home."

"Kanan Jarrus," Depa said with a fond laugh, "you know that the Temple is not your home. That was Caleb's."

Kanan gave a faint smile. "I guess that's not so bad," he said, beginning to walk toward the path, to find the voices. But he stopped and looked back to his master. "But, I don't want to leave you behind, again. Won't you come with me?"

"You know the truth of this as well, my Padawan," Depa replied, "I never left you." Once again she stood at his back. "I said I would be right behind you and I always have been. Now go. Walk your path once more."

"Thank you, Master," Kanan said, walking toward the path, steps uncertain and hesitating at first. But every step was easier than the last until, finally, his feet were on the path again.

* * *

Hera knew that she needed to get some sleep. She hadn't taken more than an occasional cat-nap since the _Ghost_ left Ord Mantell. It had been almost two days and she was absolutely ragged. Zeb had finally chased her into her cabin, threatening to have Chopper weld the door shut until she got actual sleep. The droid had been all too gleeful to back up the threat by displaying a welder tip on the end of its arm, lit.

So, she had capitulated, but not before extracting promises from them both that they would check on Kanan hourly. Chopper had immediately warbled a response and rolled into Kanan's cabin to take up residence in the corner, scanners active.

She would never wipe that bratty little droid. Not ever.

But laying down in a bunk and actually sleeping were, of course, two different things. Time passed, she knew from her view of the chronometer. And she _did_ sleep. But she kept waking up about every hour, restless, so it wasn't very good sleep. And, only about six hours after she had gone to bed, she found she was wide awake and wasn't going to be falling asleep again any time soon. Finally, she couldn't stand staying in bed, uninformed, any longer.

Getting out of her bunk, she wrapped up in an old, soft Rylothian wool wrap and padded out of her cabin in bare feet. She was about to duck into Kanan's cabin when she heard her name from the other end of the hall, near the common area. Zeb was standing there, regarding her with suspicion.

"You sure you got enough sleep?" he asked.

Hera cast a quick look into Kanan's cabin, then moved down the corridor toward Zeb. "Not really," she admitted, "but that's all I'm getting for right now. How is he?"

"Fever's still high," Zeb replied, "I don't think that second antibiotic did anything. I gave him a dose of the third one about an hour ago."

Hera sighed, the news doing nothing for her mood. She pulled her wool wrap in closer. "We'll just have to hope it works," she said.

"I'm not exactly a praying kind of guy," said Zeb, a hand scratching the back of his head, "but I suppose, every bit helps, right?"

Stars, he was making it hard to stay the steady hand on the wheel of the ship! Hera couldn't help the sniff and the little bit of wetness in her eyes as she tried to give Zeb a smile. She took hold of his hand.

"He'll appreciate that," she said, "when he wakes up."

Zeb's eyes slid away from hers, shyly. "Well, I'm sure you want to go check on him, so... I'm just going to go make some caf." He pulled his hand loose and then made his way aft to the galley. She could have sworn she heard him muttering something about Chelactan onions.

She turned her attention back to Kanan's cabin and went in. Chopper was just completing a scan and turned to look at her when she entered. It trilled out an apprehensive negative; no change yet.

"Thanks Chop," she sighed, pacing over to the bunk and crouching down to check on Kanan for herself.

The fever was making him restless, though it was clear that his strength was waning, still. His face kept scrunching up, his brow furrowing and his eyebrows squinting together. Hera gently pulled back a stray wisp of his hair that was stuck to his forehead. Feeling the heat, she reached for a bowl of water that was on the nearby dresser and wrung out a cloth before placing it on Kanan's forehead. He gave a shiver and groaned out a protest at first, but it seemed to calm him a little.

Chopper asked her something, but she was too weary to try to translate the chirrups.

"Chop, I need you to run a diagnostic on the _Phantom_ " she said, not bothering to turn to look at the droid, "check for any damage and see if you can clean the sand out of the vents."

Chopper hesitated and for a moment she thought it was going to protest. But, in the end, it gave only a short trill of surprise, then blurted out a grudging assent, rolling out of the cabin.

Hera waited a moment, then went over to the door and closed it, setting the lock. She collapsed against it and choked out a sob, tears coming to her eyes and her hands folded together. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she pushed away from the door and paced in the the center of the room, tugging on her wool wrap. Finally, she looked upward.

"All right, you" she said quietly, unable to keep the sobs from her voice, "listen up because I'm only going to say this once. I can't sense you. I can't control you. And I'll never be able to understand you. But I know you're real. You are so real. And I know that because of him. And sure, maybe he's mad at you and has tried to cut you off, but can you blame him? He was _fourteen_! And he saw the only family he had ever known murdered by the only friends he had ever known. And you sent no one... _no one_ to help, to stop it. And worse, every time he began to find some form of peace, you pushed your way in, trying to show him to the galaxy. You might as well have pointed a gun at him yourself. And now, he's dying because you decided that he needed to save a girl he hardly knew. And maybe Sabine _is_ worth saving. But, you threw him into an explosion to do it, like he was _nothing_ to you.

"So you are going to do something for him, now. Because he is not just your tool, to be cast aside when a job is done. Maybe he's forgotten for a while, but he loves you and he wants to do right by you. So you are going to _save_ him. You will not let him die. Because he is braver, and more noble, and stronger, and wiser than he will ever know. And dammit, you've made me love him. So, please. _Please_ , save him. Just save him."

Her knees could no longer support her and she sunk to the floor. No longer able to stop the tears, she sat in the middle of the room, buried her face in her hands, and wept.

But she stopped and looked up when she heard an odd rattle coming from the direction of Kanan's bunk. Through the blur of her tears, she noticed that Kanan seemed to be much more at peace. And though he still had not woken, he was holding up one hand as if reaching out for something.

The rattling noise sounded again and Hera noticed movement from the section of drawers under his bunk, as if something was inside and trying to get out. Cautiously, she scooted over and opened the little drawer.

The instant it had enough space, a glowing blue box with golden accents flew out of the drawer and rushed toward Kanan's outstretched hand. It hovered there for a moment, and his hand moved under it, as if to catch it, then lightly rested back on his chest again.

The corners of the box turned with a little mechanical whir and then popped off the rest of the box, spreading outward with the main part of the object still hovering in the center. Light shimmered and filled the space and the figure of a woman, a Chelactan, appeared. Dressed in robes of brown, her hair was done up in two braided loops on either side of her head.

"Caleb," said the woman with a smile, "my little strategist. The memory of the holocron I'm gifting to you is vast and perhaps it will be years before you ever find this message. But that's all right. I know the Force will reveal it to you when it is needed.

"There are... things... that I cannot tell you. Things that only the Jedi council knows. But I can tell you this. The strength of a Jedi wanes with pride. And, I have foreseen that it will be our undoing. A darkness is coming, revealed to me by the Force. What shape that darkness will take, I cannot say. But it will not be absolute. And the Force has whispered to me that you will have some part to play after that darkness descends. I can only take that to mean that your future will be a difficult one. And I can only hope that I have been able to prepare you for it.

"My dear apprentice, you are strong, and wise, and the Force has blessed you with a remarkable ability to look deeper, to see the possibilities that no one else can. Use this gift.

"The code says that there is no death, only the Force. I prefer to say death, yet the Force. For life and death are one and the same, in many ways. If it should become so dark that it seems you cannot bare it, always remember that the Force is with you, my strategist. And thus, I am with you. And I will be proud of whatever light you bring to the galaxy."

The image faded, the corners of the box returning to their places on the main section. With another whir, they twisted back into place. The glowing cube hovered in the air for a moment, as if waiting. Finally, Hera held out her hands beneath it and the cube dropped into them. Slowly, the light at the cube's center faded away.

Hera looked to Kanan again. His face was still and calm, his breathing even. A sweat had broken out on his face and neck and putting a hand to his cheek, she found that it was beginning to cool.

She let out another sob, a smile of joy finally coming to her face. Once again, she looked up.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Then, she took hold of Kanan's hand and wrapped it around the cube, closing her own over it and holding it there, letting tears of relief slide down her face, freely.

* * *

Hera was there. Her lantern shone the brightest. She took hold of his arm and firmly planted herself at his side.

Zeb was there. He turned when the Lasat placed a big hand on his shoulder and looked down at him, grinning, holding up his lantern which felt warm and strong.

Sabine was there. She elbowed him in the ribs playfully and looked up at him with a wry smile, holding her lantern in both hands, the flickering image of a firebird in its flame.

Looking behind, he saw Master Depa, hands folded together, calmly holding out a lantern whose light shone straight ahead, down the path.

And before him, Kanan saw a boy, blue-black hair ruffling in an unseen wind, holding up a lantern of his own, a little white creature with pointed ears and blue eyes at his feet. Behind him, tall grasses waved on either side of the path and a rounded spire of smooth, striated stone rose from the horizon in the distance.

"C'mon, Master!" The boy exclaimed, beckoning him onward. "It's this way!"

"Apprentice?" Kanan murmured.

But he followed. And as he walked, everyone else went with him.

" _Welcome, you are_ ," said a voice, the one he remembered from his earliest memory, of a room with fountains and a sense of peace, " _far to come, far to go, it is. Cold and warm, it is. Seek what you are looking for, you will. Find it here, you shall. Listen._ "

The light from the lanterns flared, drowning out all else from his vision. And when it finally cleared, Kanan found himself looking up at the underside of the upper bunk in his cabin.

He felt heavy and tired and there was a sharp pain in his side. But resting on his chest, feeling warm, he found his hands wrapped around his holocron.

Light spilled into the cabin from the corridor, his door open to the rest of the ship. And beyond it, he heard voices. Hera's was the one he heard first and he couldn't help but smile. He heard Chopper give a blurp in response to whatever she had said. And then he heard Zeb and finally Sabine. But he couldn't make out what they were talking about and he was suddenly filled with the urge to go to them.

Setting the holocron aside on the dresser, and feeling pain tug at his side, he slowly pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk. There was the cuff of a nano-IV on his wrist and this he pulled off, letting it dangle from its tubing. He was already tired from that. But hearing the voices echo down the corridor again, he steeled himself and leaned forward, placing a hand on the dresser to steady himself, and stood.

His legs felt like rubber and he had to take a moment to collect himself. Pressing one hand to his injured side and holding out the other against the wall to keep steady, he shuffled through the door and down the hallway to the common room.

"So there we were, completely hung over," Zeb was saying.

"Oh no, you two were not hung over," Hera cut in, "you guys were still drunk! Let's be clear on that."

Sabine gave a laugh. By now, Kanan had reached the threshold of the common room entrance and leaned there watching them, all gathered around the dejarik table, lounging and laughing.

"But I look over to Kanan and ask him if it's a good time to tell Hera I'm looking for a ride," Zeb went on, "and then Kanan gives me this goofy grin and says-"

"Depends," Kanan cut in, "do you like those purple ears of yours?"

Everyone snapped around to look his direction in surprise.

"Kanan!" Hera exclaimed, practically leaping up from the booth.

"Well, karabast!" Zeb said. "He walks and talks!"

Chopper trilled something that may have passed for a happy exclamation, at least for Chopper.

"Finally," Sabine said, "took you long enough."

"You shouldn't be up," Hera scolded him, though she couldn't keep the smile off her face as she came up next to him and grasped on to an arm, "you should have called."

"Nah, I'm fine. I've been laying down long enough," he replied, beginning to move toward the booth. His knees gave way and he was suddenly thankful for Hera's hold on his arm. Sabine also jumped up and put a hand under his other elbow.

"Oh yeah," said Hera with a roll of her eyes, "I can see you look just fine, there."

The ladies got Kanan settled in the booth and leaning back he let out a groan in an attempt to release the tension around the wound in his side. It flared a little and he breathed through it.

"So, how long exactly have I been laying down?" he asked.

"A little over two days," Hera said, lightly sitting on the bench next to him, "you had us worried for a while."

"And I'm sure you'll all make me pay for that," he replied with grin.

"Too right we will," said Zeb.

Kanan gave a weak chuckle, doing his best to keep it from getting too deep and causing more pain. Silence fell for a moment and slowly, his grin faded.

"I, uh..." he began, looking to Zeb and Sabine, "so, there's something I have a vague recollection of you two figuring out."

"Yeah," said Sabine around an uncomfortable sigh, "it was a little hard to miss everything in the cargo hold flying into the walls."

"Including us," Zeb added.

Kanan let out a breath, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the back of the booth. "Not the way I would have chosen to tell anyone," he mumbled, "sorry."

"Think we can give you a pass on that one," said Zeb, "seemed like you were flashing back to somethin'."

"But don't worry," Sabine broke in, her face as serious as Kanan had ever seen it, "your secret is safe with me. And not just because you saved my butt at the barricade. When you're up to it, I... I want to tell you why I deserted the Academy."

"No rush, Paint Job," Kanan replied, "whenever you're ready to talk about it. Speaking of which, is that new?" He tapped the corner of her chest plate where a new design was painted; a firebird taking flight, wings wrapped around as if to embrace a world.

"Oh! Yeah!" Sabine said. "I dunno, it just sorta popped into my head and spoke to me. Images just sort of do that, sometimes."

"I like it," said Kanan, "should paint a big one, over there on that wall."

"Hey!" Hera said. "I never said you could redecorate my ship."

"Aw c'mon," said Kanan, "the walls in here are so boring. Can we at least talk about it?"

"All right, dear, I'll _think_ about it."

"And um," Sabine put in, somewhat shyly, "while we're thinking about things... Hera and Zeb and I were talking earlier and we wanted to talk to you about-"

"I already told you you were welcome on the team, Specter Five," Kanan cut her off, "besides, if you leave, we'll just have to break in someone new." A wave of pain flared up in his side and he put a hand to it again. "And I'm not sure I could survive that."

"Well, that makes it unanimous, then," Zeb said, "welcome to the family, kit!"

"Family," Kanan mused to himself. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

* * *

Tan was a boring color. But in this case, it seemed right. Sabine looked at the pauldron she had formed and contemplated it.

"Still needs something," she mused.

Setting the piece of shaped metal on the floor in front of her, she reached for her paints and absently swirled a brush around in the small cup of water to clean it off enough to be used again. At first, she went for her brown. It was in the palate she was inspired by, after all. But it just didn't have the pop it needed. Black just made the thing look dull. It needed to shine. Finally, she settled on white and dipped her brush into her paint. With a few strokes, she traced out a stylized image of a bird, long-necked and and proud, flying straight upward. It was a little too literal, though, so she stepped it back a bit, finishing the edges a bit more neatly and making it look almost like a stencil.

"There we go," she said, "that's what it needed." She blew on it a bit to help the paint dry and then grabbed a piece of cloth from the pile that was heaped next to her. She wiped down the edges of the pauldron and all the other pieces, making certain they were smooth.

Shuffling feet came up the corridor outside her cabin, echoing through the open door.

"Hey Kanan," she called as they passed her door.

"Morning, Sabine," he answered, shuffling past, stiffly. It had been a few days and Kanan's strength was beginning to return, though Hera was still plying him with pain-killers and antibiotics, and he was definitely on the mend.

A moment after he had shuffled past, he came back and peeked around the door frame to look in on her.

"Is that my coat?" he asked, pointing at the pile of discarded cloth. "What are you doing to my coat?"

"Umm," she said, reaching for one of the larger pieces and holding it up. Right in the middle of it, there was a jagged hole big enough for Sabine to peer through, giving him an apologetic face. All around it, soaked into the fibers, there was a gross, red-brown stain.

"Oh," said Kanan, clearly disappointed, "damn! The Pirate Queen of Takodana gave me that coat. Right after a really strange conversation. I liked that coat. There were armor plates in it."

"For all the good it did ya," Sabine cracked.

"Well sure," Kanan said with a shrug and a roll of his eyes, "until _now_. But seriously, what are you doing with my coat?"

"Well, waste not, want not," she replied, "the armor plates were still in good shape, so I salvaged them. Hera let me use an engine coil as a forge, so I was able to temper it a little more, make it stronger." She laid out all the pieces of shaped and painted metal on the floor for him to see. "Gauntlet, bracer, pauldron, and a partial chest plate," she said, pointing to each piece in turn, "for your weapon side, since that gets pointed at the enemy most often." She pantomimed a grip on a pistol, holding her right hand out as if to shoot.

Kanan stepped inside and reached for the pauldron. Sabine obliged by picking it up and handing it to him.

"Huh," he said, rapping a knuckle against its surface, "well, I'd be an idiot to turn down a gift of armor from a Mandalorian."

"Yeah," Sabine said, as if it was one of the most obvious statements ever, "it'd be a big insult. I'd be pretty pissed if you turned it down."

"Well, can't have that," said Kanan, handing the pauldron piece back to her, "thanks, Sabine, really."

"Hey, just don't get shrapnel stuck in your side again and we'll call it even."

"Yes, ma'am, I'll do my best," Kanan replied, ducking back out of the cabin with a three-fingered salute and continuing on down the corridor.

She went back to touching up the last bits of the paint job. A moment later, Zeb poked his head around the edge of her door.

"Hey, uh," he ventured, "you wanna do mine next?"

* * *

Kanan pulled open the drawer that was under his bunk and took out the holocron once again. Settling into a cross-legged pose on the floor of his closed cabin, he held it out and called to it, through the Force. It floated into the air and eagerly opened to him.

There was a recording, a very old one. An ancient Jedi Master whose name had been lost to time, sitting in meditation.

"There is no emotion, there is peace," the old master said.

Kanan let the recording play, opening his senses to the feel of everything around him. He pulled out of the drawer a little canvas bag that had been shoved all the way to the back.

"There is no ignorance," the old master continued, "there is knowledge."

Kanan opened the bag and reached inside. One by one, he pulled out the tiny pieces that were inside and set them in neat order on the floor.

"There is no passion, there is serenity."

A power cell, a lens, various and sundry pieces of wiring and metal.

"There is no chaos, there is harmony."

The last object he didn't need to reach into the bag to retrieve. It rose up to find him. A tiny crystal, glowing blue and sparkling. It called to Kanan like an old friend and he let it float in front of him for a moment.

"There is no death, there is the Force."

Kanan settled back into a meditative pose, breathing deeply and closing his eyes. He allowed the crystal to float where it willed and then reached out, surrendering to the thrum of all around him.

"I am a Jedi," the old master went on, "an instrument of peace. Where there is hatred, I shall bring love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; and where there is sadness, joy."

For a long moment, Kanan listened, not only to the old master, but to the swirling tendrils of the Force that were calling out to each other, seeking to be joined. The parts laid out in front of him answered the call and drifted up into the air, surrounding the crystal.

"I shall never seek so much to be consoled as to console," said the master, "to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; for it is in giving that we receive and in pardoning that we are pardoned."

The pieces all began to come together, binding themselves, completing circuits, calculating their own measures. They closed in and encased the glowing crystal, its energy content to be harnessed.

"And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life," the master went on.

Kanan reached out for the object that had heeded his call and formed itself. He felt the cool metal, the perfectly-placed grips, the balance. It was right.

"I am one with the Force and the Force is with me, always," the old master concluded.

Energy sprang from the object that had been created, eager to show itself, its power, its might, its purity. Kanan opened his eyes to the bright glow of a crisp, blue blade of light. And the last part of the old master's recitation also came from Kanan's lips.

"For I am a Jedi."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dammit! I don't think I've ever cried so hard while writing a chapter in my life! Someone is in my kitchen chopping onions! It's the only explanation!
> 
> So, anyone else ever noticed that, by the time of Rebels, Kanan doesn't seem to have that awesome coat that he has in all the artwork for A New Dawn? It's a badass coat and I've been really sad that we've never seen it on the show. But the New Dawn artwork also seems to show that he didn't have the right-side pauldron and bracer armor that shows up in the show. I decided to try and make an explanation for the change. Because one doesn't get rid of a badass coat like that for no reason...


	6. Epilogue

As soon as the _Ghost_ had set down on Lothal for the first time, Kanan had felt a connection. The long grasses, the smooth spires of stone, the way the place just felt beneath his feet; it was all so familiar, somehow. He had told Hera that he had had a feeling that they were meant to be here, that they would be here for quite some time.

She hadn't said anything. She just gave him that smile that she had started giving him recently, the one that said she already knew what he was thinking just by looking at his face. He liked that look. It was reassuring, somehow. And in it, he saw a glow of the Force that at once warmed his heart and made his stomach sink with anxiety.

Far to come, far to go.

That had been eight months ago, now. Hera's intel from Fulcrum had brought them there and put them in contact with a smuggler and dealer of information by the name of Cikatro Vizago. A green-skinned Devaronian with half of one horn broken off, he wasn't exactly the most savory or trustworthy of contacts. But if you dealt with him fairly, he would do the same with you. He often turned his nose up at some of the jobs they set out to do, but often said that what they did in order to do business with him was none of his concern.

So, when he got word of a unit of Stormtroopers and officers heading into a small town to procure weapons and supplies for the outpost on Lothal, he knew just who to sell that information to and called Hera. They made a deal and then they were off.

The day was quiet in the little town, the market humming with orderly activity the same as it had done day in and day out since the Empire had come to the planet. Kanan strolled through it, enjoying the sunshine while they were out on their op. It was nice to be on a planet that wasn't desolate.

And then, he felt it. The pull. It pricked at the back of his skull, like a pet Loth-cat trying to get the attention of her owner.

In reflex, he almost pushed it aside. But he caught himself and paused to contemplate it for a moment. Focusing on it, he felt it somewhere behind and above him. And then, with utter surety he turned and looked directly toward it.

For a moment, just a moment, he thought he saw the silhouette of a boy. But it ducked down below the roof line of the building his gaze had fallen on so hastily that he wasn't sure it had actually been there. It was elusive now, trying to evade his attention. And yet, Kanan felt his own focus reflected back at him.

Something important was going to happen that day. He knew this with complete certainty. Humbling himself for a moment, still feeling a little presumptuous that the Force would want to grant him anything after how he had acted toward It, he asked the Force what should be done. It returned to him a giddy smile and told him not to worry, that it would come to him.

And so, Kanan returned his attention to the op, and walked on.


End file.
